60 

the  bay  of  Naples ;  and  the  castle,  less  than  nothing* 
compared  with  Castel  Nuovo.  Thank  heaven,  I  had  not 
been  abroad  to  spoil  my  relish.  Even  my  uncle  enjoy 
ed  it,  and  spoke  more  kindly  to  me  than  during  the 
whole  passage.  He  was  very  sick,  and  called  himself 
an  old  fool  fifty  times  a  day.  I  believe  half  the  time  he 
meant  "  young  fool,"  that  is  me,  for  persuading  him  to 
the  voyage.  Graves'  eyes  sparkled,  but  as  usual  he 
said  nothing.  He  only  gave  me  a  look,  which  said  as 
plainly  as  a  thousand  words,  "  how  beautiful !"  but 
whether  he  meant  me  or  dame  nature,  is  more  than  I 
can  tell. 

The  moment  we  touched  the  wharf,  there  was  an 
irruption  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  as  my  uncle  called 
the  hackney  coachmen,  and  the  porters,  who  risked  their 
necks  in  jumping  aboard.  "  Carriage,  sir," — "  Baggage, 
sir," — "City  Hotel  sir," — "Mansion  House," — "  Mrs. 
Mann's," — were  reiterated  a  thousand  times;  and  I 
thought  half  a  dozen  of  them  would  have  fought  for  our 
trunks,  they  disputed  and  swore  so  terribly.  Stephen 
declared  it  was  worse  than  London  ;  and  Graves  said 
it  put  him  in  mind  of  the  contest  between  the  Greeks 
and  Trojans  for  the  body  of  poor  Patroclus.  My  uncle 
called  them  hard  names,  and  flourished  his  stick,  but  it 
would  not  do.  When  we  got  to  the  hotel  I  thought  we 
had  mistaken  some  palace  for  a  public  house.  Such 
mirrors — such  curtains — such  carpets — such  sophas — 
such  chairs !  I  was  almost  afraid  to  sit  down  upon 
them.  Even  Stephen  looked  his  approbation,  and  re 
peated  over  and  over  again :  "  Upon  my  soul,  clever — 
quite  clever — very  clever  indeed,  upon  my  soul."  My 


61 

micle  says,  all  this  finery  comes  out  of  the  cotton  plan 
tations  and  rice  swamps  ;  and  that  the  negroes  of  the 
south,  work  like  horses,  that  their  masters  may  spend 
their  money  like  asses  in  the  north. 

Poor  Henney  does  nothing  but  stand  stock  still  with 
her  mouth  and  eyes  wide  open,  and  is  of  no  more  use 
to  me  than  a  statue.  She  is  in  every  body's  way — and 
in  her  own  way  too  I  believe.  I  took  her  with  me  the 
other  day  to  a  milliner's,  to  bring  home  some  of  my 
finery.  She  stopt  at  every  window,  with  such  evident 
tokens  of  delight,  that  she  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
boys,  and  came  very  near  being  mobbed.  I  missed 
her,  and  was  obliged  to  turn  back — where  I  found  her 
in  ecstacies  with  a  picture  of  Madame  Hutin  dancing 
before  a  droll  figure,  in  a  fur  cap  and  spectacles.  Juba 
is  keeping  a  journal  I  believe,  for  you  know  that  my  un 
cle,  while  he  abuses  the  practice  with  his  tongue,  as 
sents  to  it  in  his  heart,  and  humours  his  slaves  more 
perhaps  than  a  professed  philanthropist  would  do  in  his 
situation.  I  should  like  to  see  Juba's  lucubrations. 

I  begin  to  be  weary — so  good  night,  my  dear  Maria. 
I  will  write  again  soon.  Your  LUCIA. 

P.  S.  What  do  you  think,  Maria  1 — whisper  it  not 
to  the  telltale  echoes  of  the  high  hills  of  Santee — they 
say  bishops  and  pads  are  coming  into  fashion.  I  have 
seen  several  ladies  that  looked  very  suspicious. 

Besides  eating,  and  the  various  other  resources  for 
passing  the  time  in  New  York,  there  are  various  intel 
lectual  delights  of  most  rare  diversity.     Exhibitions  of 
fat  oxen  to  charm  the  liberal  minded  amateur — Lord  By- 
6 


THE 


NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS; 


AND 


GUIDE  TO  THE  SPRINGS, 


BY   AN   AMATEUR. 

V 


"Adieu  La  Boutique !' 


NEW-YORK : 

G.  &  C.  CARVILL,  108  BROADWAY- 

1828. 

rt 


SOUTHERN  DISTRICT  OF  NEW-YORK,  as, 

BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  that  on  the  29th  day  of  April,  A.  D.  1828, 
in  the  fifty-second  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  G.  &  C.  Carvill,  of  the  said  district,  have  deposited 
in  this  office,  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  they  claim  as 
proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit : 

"  The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers  ;  and  Guide  to  the  Springs.  By 
an  Amateur.  '  Adieu  La  Boutique !' " 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  Congress  of  the  United  States,  enti 
tled,  "  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the 
copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprie 
tors  of  such  copies,  during  the  time  therein  mentioned ;"  and 
also,  to  an  Act,  entitled,  "  An  Act,  supplementary  to  an  Act,  en 
titled  an  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the 
copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors 
of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,  and  extending 
the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etchr- 
ing  historical  and  other  prints." 

FRED.  I.  BETTS, 

Ckrk  of  the  Southern  District  of  New-York 


Sleight  &  George,  Printers,  Jamaica,  I,.  I. 


l*0i 


PREFACE. 


EVER  since  the  invention  of  steam  engines,  steam 
boats,  steam  carriages,  Liverpool  packets,  rail  roads, 
and  other  delightful  facilities  for  travelling,  the  march 
of  the  human  body  has  kept  pace  with  the  march  of  the 
human  mind,  so  that  it  is  now  a  moot  point  which  gets 
on  the  faster.  If  the  body  moves  at  the  rate  of  fifteen 
miles  an  hour,  the  mind  advances  in  an  equal  pace,  and 
children  of  sixteen  are  in  a  fair  way  to  become  wiser 
than  their  grandfathers.  While  the  grown  up  gentle 
man  goes  to  Albany  in  twelve  hours,  and  comes  back 
in  forty-eight  with  a  charter  in  his  pocket,  the  aspiring 
schoolboy  smatters  a  language,  or  conquers  a  science, 
by  the  aid  of  those  vast  improvements,  in  the  "  machi 
nery"  of  the  mind,  which  have  immortalized  the  age. 
In  fact,  there  seems  to  be  a  race  between  matter  and 
mind,  and  there  is  no  telling  which  will  come  out  first 
in  the  end. 

Legislators  and  philosophers  may  flatter  themselves 
as  they  will,  but  they  have  little  influence  in  shaping 
this  world.  The  inventors  of  paper  money,  cotton 


4 

machinery,  steam  engines  and  steam  boats,  have 
caused  a  greater  revolution  in  the  habits,  opinions  and 
morals  of  mankind,  than  all  the  systems  of  philosophy, 
aided  by  all  the  efforts  of  legislation.  Machinery  and 
steam  engines  have  had  more  influence  on  the  Christian 
World,  than  Locke's  metaphysics,  Napoleon's  code,  or 
Jeremy  Bentham's  codification  ;  and  we  have  heard  a 
great  advocate  for  domestic  manufactures  predict,  the 
time  was  not  far  distant,  when  men  and  women  and 
children  would  be  of  no  use  but  to  construct  and  attend 
upon  machinery — when  spinning  jennies  would  become 
members  of  congress,  and  the  United  States  be  govern 
ed  by  a  steam  engine  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  horse 
power.  We  confess  ourselves  not  quite  so  sanguine, 
but  will  go  so  far  as  to  say,  we  believe  the  time  may 
come  when  a  long  speech  will  be  spun  out  of  a  bale  of 
cotton  by  a  spinning  jenny ;  a  president  of  the  United 
States  be  made  by  a  combination  of  machinery ;  and 
Blynheer  Maelzel  be  beaten  at  chess  by  his  own  auto 
maton. 

Without  diving  deeper  into  such  speculations,  or  tra 
cing  the  effects  of  these  vast  improvements  in  the  con 
dition  of  mankind,  who  will  soon  have  nothing  to  do 
but  tend  upon  machinery,  we  shall  content  ourselves  with 
observing  that  the  wonderful  facilities  for  locomotion 
furnished  by  modern  ingenuity  have  increased  the  num- 


5 

her  of  travellers  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  now  consti 
tute  a  large  portion  of  the  human  family.  All  ages  and 
sexes  are  to  be  found  on  the  wing,  in  perpetual  motion 
from  place  to  place.  Little  babies  are  seen  crying 
their  way  in  steam  boats,  whose  cabins  are  like  so 
many  nurseries — people  who  are  the  most  comfortable 
at  home,  are  now  most  fond  of  going  abroad — the 
spruce  shopman  exclaims  "  Adieu  La  Boutique,"  and 
leaves  the  shopboy  to  cheat  the  town  for  him — the 
young  belle,  tired  of  seeing  and  being  seen  in  Broad 
way,  breaks  forth  in  all  her  glories  in  a  new  place  at 
five  hundred  miles  distance — bedrid  age  musters  its 
last  energies  for  an  expedition  to  West  Point,  or  the 
Grand  Canal — and  even  the  thrifty  housewife  of  the 
villages  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  who  heretofore 
was  "  all  one  as  a  piece  of  the  house,"  thinks  nothing 
of  risking  a  blow  up,  or  a  break  down,  in  making  a 
voyage  to  New  York  to  sell  a  pair  of  mittens,  or  buy  a 
paper  of  pins.  We  have  heard  a  great  political  econo 
mist  assert,  that  the  money  spent  in  travelling  between 
New  York  and  Albany,  in  the  last  fifteen  years,  would 
go  near  to  maintain  all  the  paupers  of  the  United  States 
in  that  the  purest  of  all  possible  states  of  independ 
ence — to  wit,  a  freedom  from  an  ignominious  depend 
ence  on  labour  and  economy.  It  is  high  time,  there 
fore,  that  the  wandering  Arabs  of  the  west  should  have 
1* 


6     . 

a  code  of  laws,  and  regulations  for  their  especial  go 
vernment,  and  the  principal  design  of  the  present  work 
is  to  supply  this  desideratum. 

We  have  accordingly  prepared  a  system  of  jurispru 
dence,  which,  we  flatter  ourselves,  will  not  suffer  in 
comparison,  either  with  the  code  Napoleon- — the  code 
Bentham — or  any  other  code  which  the  march  of  mind 
hath  begotten  on  the  progress  of  public  improvement 
in  the  present  age.  The  traveller,  if  we  mistake  not, 
will  find  in  it  ample  instructions,  as  to  his  outfits  in 
setting  forth  for  unknown  parts — the  places  and  things 
most  worthy  of  attention  in  his  route — the  deportment 
proper  in  divers  new  and  untried  situations — and  above 
all,  critical  and  minute  instructions,  concerning  those 
exquisite  delights  of  the  palate,  which  constitute  the 
principal  object  of  all  travellers  of  taste. 

In  addition  to  this,  we  have  omitted  no  opportunity 
of  inculcating  a  passion  for  travelling,  which  from  long 
laborious  experience,  we  pronounce  the  most  exquisite 
mode  of  killing  time  and  spending  money  ever  yet  de 
vised  by  lazy  ingenuity.  It  would  occupy  our  whole 
book — which  is  restricted  to  a  certain  bulk,  so  as  not 
to  interfere  with  the  ladies'  bandboxes  and  the  gentle 
men's  trunks — were  we  to  indulge  in  a  summary  of  all 
the  delights  and  advantages  of  seeing  new  and  distant 
parts.  Unfortunately  for  us  we  write  solely  for  the 


benefit  of  the  world,  holding  our  own  especial  emolu 
ments  in  sovereign  contempt ;  and  still  more  unfortu 
nately,  if  this  were  not  the  case,  we  belong  not  to  that 
favoured  class  of  writers,  who  can  take  the  liberty  of 
publishing  in  six  royal  octavos,  matter  which  might  be 
compressed  in  one.  We  have  only  space  to  observe, 
that  a  man  who  has  travelled  to  good  purppse,  and 
made  a  proper  use  of  his  opportunities,  may  commit  as 
many  blunders  and  tell  as  many  good  stories  as  he 
pleases,  provided  he  confines  himself  to  places,  where 
he  has  been,  and  his  hearers  have  not.  Books  are  of 
no  authority  in  opposition  to  an  eyewitness  ;  who  is,  as 
it  were,  like  so  many  of  our  great  politicians — ex- 
officio,  a  judge  of  every  thing. 

Two  persons  were  once  disputing  in  a  large  compa 
ny,  about  the  Venus  de  Medicis.  One  maintained  that 
her  head  inclined  a  little  forward  to  the  right,  the  other 
that  it  inclined  to  the  left.  One  had  read  Winckelman, 
and  a  hundred  other  descriptions  of  the  statue.  The 
other  had  never  read  a  book  in  his  life  ;  but  he  had  been 

at  Florence,  and  looked  at  the  Venus,  for  at  least  five 
minutes. 

"  My  dear  sir — /  ought  to  know ;  for  I  have  read  all 
the  books,  that  were  ever  written  on  the  Venus  de 
Medicis." 

"My  dear  sir — /  must  know;  fer  I  have  been  at 
Florence  and  seen  her." 


8 

Here  was  an  end  of  the  argument.  All  the  company 
was  perfectly  satisfied,  that  the  man  who  had  seen  with 
his  own  eyes  was  right — and  yet  he  was  wrong.  But 
seeing  is  believing,  and  being  believed  too.  You  may 
doubt  what  a  man  affirms  on  the  authority  of  another ; 
but  if  he  says  he  has  seen  the  sea  serpent,  to  doubt  his 
veracity  is  to  provoke  a  quarrel.  Such  are  the  advan 
tages  of  seeing  with  our  own  eyes  !  Let  us  therefore 
set  out  without  delay  on  the  GRAND  NORTHERN 
TOUR, 


THE 


NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS,  &c. 


IN  compiling  and  cogitating  this  work,  we  have  con 
sidered  ourselves  as  having  no  manner  of  concern  with 
travellers  until  they  arrive  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
where  we  intend  to  take  them  under  our  especial  pro 
tection.  Doubtless,  in  proceeding  from  the  south, 
there  are  various  objects  worth  the  attention  of  the  tra 
veller,  who  may  tajce  the  opportunity  of  stopping  to 
change  horses,  or  to  dine,  to  look  round  him  a  little, 
and  see  what  is  to  be  seen.  But,  generally  speaking, 
all  is  lost  time,  until  he  arrives  at  New  York,  of  which 
it  may  justly  be  said,  that  as  Paris  is  France,  so  New 
York  is — New  York.  It  is  here  then  that  we  take  the 
fashionable  tourist  by  the  hand  and  commence  cice 
rone. 

The  city  of  New  York,  to  which  all  travellers  of  taste 
resort  from  the  remotest  corners  of  the  earth,  and  from 
whence  they  set  out  on  what  is  emphatically  called  the 
GREAT  NORTHERN  TOUR,  is  situated  at  the  confluence 
of  two  noble  waters,  and  about  eighteen  miles  from  the 
Atlantic  Ocean.  But  we  have  always  thought  it  a 
singular  piece  of  impertinence  in  the  compilers  of  road 
books,  itineraries,  and  guides,  to  take  up  the  traveller's 


10 

lime  in  describing  things  he  came  expressly  to  see,  and 
shall  therefore  confine  ourselves  to  matters  more  occult 
and  inaccessible  to  transient  sojourners.  New  York, 
though  a  very  honest  and  well  intentioned  city  as  times 
go,  (with  the  exception  of  Wall  Street,  which  labours 
under  a  sort  of  a  shadow  of  suspicion,)  has  changed  its 
name  almost  as  often  as  some  graceless  rogues,  though 
doubtless  not  for  the  same  reasons.  The  Indian  name 
was  Manhadoes  ;  the  Dutch  called  it  New  Orange  and 
New  Amsterdam  ;  the  English  New  York,  which  name 
all  the  world  knows  it  still  retains.  In  1673,  it  was  a 
small  village,  and  the  richest  man  in  it  was  Frederick 
Philipse,  or  Flypse,  who  was  rated  at  80,000  guilders. 
Now  it  is  the  greatest  city  of  the  new  world  ;  the  third, 
if  not  the  second,  in  commerce  of  all  the  world,  old  and 
new ;  and  there  are  men  in  it,  who  were  yesterday 
worth  millions  of  guilders — in  paper  money  :  what  they 
may  be  worth  to-morrow,  we  cant  say,  as  that  will  de 
pend  on  a  speculation.  In  1660,  the  salaries  of  mi 
nisters  and  public  officers  were  paid  in  beaver  skins : 
now  they  are  paid  in  bank  notes.  The  beaver  skins 
were  always  worth  the  money,  which  is  more  than  can 
be  said  of  the  bank  notes.  New  York  contains  one 
university  and  two  medical  colleges  ;  the  latter  always 
struggling  with  each  other  with  a  noble  spirit  of  gene 
rous,  scientific  emulation.  There  are  twenty-two  banks 
— good,  bad  and  indifferent  ;  forty-three  insurance 
companies — solvent  and  insolvent  ;  and  one  public 
library  :  from  whence  it  may  be  reasonably  inferred, 
that  money  is  plenty  as  dirt — insurance  bonds  still  more 
£0 — and  that  both  are  held  in  greater  estimation  thaa 


11 

learning.  There  are  also  one  hundred  churches,  and 
about  as  many  lottery  offices,  which  accounts  for  the 
people  of  New  York  being  so  much  better  than  their 
neighbours. 

In  addition  to  all  these,  there  is  an  academy  of  arts, 
an  athenaeum,  and  several  other  institutions  for  the  dis 
couragement  of  literature,  the  arts  and  sciences.  The 
academy  languishes  under  the  patronage  of — names. 
The  athenaeum  is  a  place  where  one  may  always  meet 
with  La  Belle  Assemblee,  Ackerman's  Magazine,  and 
the  last  number  of  Blackwood.  In  addition  to  these 
places  of  popular  amusement  and  recreation,  New 
York  supports  six  theatres,  of  various  kinds :  from 
whence  it  may  be  inferred,  the  people  are  almost  as 
fond  of  theatres  as  churches.  There  was  an  Italian 
opera  last  year.  But  Eheu  fugaces  Posthume!  The 
birds  are  flown  to  other  climes,  and  left  the  sweet 
singers  of  all  other  nations,  as  it  were,  howling  in  the 
wilderness. 

Besides  these  attractions  and  ten  thousand  more, 
New  York  abounds  beyond  all  other  places  in  the  uni 
verse,  not  excepting  Paris,  in  consummate  institutions 
for  cultivating  the  noble  science  of  gastronomy.  The 
soul  of  Heliogababus  presides  in  the  kitchens  of  our 
hotels  and  boarding  houses,  and  inspires  the  genius  of 
a  thousand  cooks — not  sent  by  the  d — 1,  as  the  old  pro 
verb  infamously  asserts,  but  by  some  special  dispensa 
tion.  There  too  will  be  found  canvass  backs  from  the 
Susquehanna ;  venison  from  Jersey,  Long  Island  and 
Catskill ;  grouse  from  Hempstead  Plains  ;  snipe  from 
the  Newark  meadows ;  and  partridges  from  Bull  Hill ; 


12 

which,  if  the  gourmand  hath  never  eaten,  let  him  despair 
Then  as  for  fish !  0  for  a  mouth  to  eat,  or  to  utter 
the  names  of  the  fish  that  flutter  in  the  markets  of  New 
York,  silently  awaiting  their  customers  like  so  many 
pupils  of  Pythagoras.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  keep  Lent 
here.  It  is  impossible  to  enumerate  them  all :  but  we 
should  consider  ourselves  the  most  ungrateful  of  man 
kind,  were  we  to  omit  making  honourable  mention  of 
the  inimitable  trout  from  the  Fire  Place,  whose  pure 
waters  are  alone  worthy  the  gambols  of  these  sportive 
Undinae ;  or  the  amiable  sheep's  head,  whose  teeth  pro 
ject  out  of  his  mouth  as  if  to  indicate  that  he  longs  to 
be  eating  up  himself;*  or  the  black  fish,  which  offers  a 
convincing  proof  that  nature  knows  no  distinction  of 
colours,  and  has  made  the  black  skin  equal  to  the  white 
— at  least  among  fishes ;  or  the  delicious  bass — the 
toothsome  shad — and  the  majestic  cod,  from  the  bank  of 
Newfoundland,  doubly  remarkable,  as  being  almost  the 
only  good  that,  ever  came  of  banks.  All  these,  together 
with  countless  varieties  of  smaller  fry,  offer  themselves 
spontaneously  to  the  experienced  connoisseur,  a  new 
delicacy  for  every  day  in  the  year.  We  invoke  them 
all !  Thee  sea  green  lobster  of , the  Sound,  best  beloved 
of  southern  invalids,  a  supper  of  whom  is  a  sovereign 
cure  for  dyspepsia  ;  thee  luscious  soft  crab,  the  disco 
very  of  whose  inimitable  excellence  has  made  the  city 
of  Baltimore  immortal ;  cat  fish  and  flounder,  slippery 
eel  and  rough  shelled  muscle ;  elephant  clam,  which 

*  The  unlearned  traveller  will  be  careful  not  to  confound  the 
sheep's  head,  with  the  head  of  a  sheep,  as  did  the  honest  Irishman 
at  Norfolk. 


13 

the  mischievous  boys  of  the  Sound  call  by  a  more  inglo 
rious  name ; — we  invoke  ye  all !  And  if  we  forget 
thee,  0  most  puissant  and  imperial  oyster,  whether  of 
Blue  Point,  York  River,  Chingoteague  or  Chingarora, 
may  our  palate  forget  its  cunning,  and  lose  the  best 
gift  of  heaven — the  faculty  of  distinguishing  between 
six  different  Madeira  wines,  with  our  eyes  shut !  All 
these  and  more  may  be  seen  of  a  morning  at  Fulton 
and  Washington  Markets,  and  the  traveller,  who  shall 
go  away  without  visiting  them,  has  travelled  in  vain. 

Then  for  cooking  these  various  and  transcendent  ex 
cellencies,  these  precious  bounties — Thee  we  invoke— 
thee  of  the  Bank  Coffee  House,  who  excellest  equally 
in  the  sublime  sciences  of  procuring  and  serving  up 
these  immortal  dishes,  and  hast  no  equal  among  men, 
but  the  great  SYKES,  with  whom  thou  didst  erewhile 
divide  the  empire  of  the  world.  But  Eheu  fugaces 
Posthwne  too  !  the  smoke  of  his  kitchen  which  bore  up 
incense  worthy  of  the  gods  is  now  gone  out — he  himself 
is  like  a  shadow  long  departed,  and  nothing  is  left  of 
him  but  the  recollection  of  his  suppers  and  his  debts. 
Neither  must  we  commit  the  crying  sin  of  passing  un 
noticed  and  unhonoured  the  utterly  famous  gastrono- 
mium  of  the  great  DROZE,  master  of  the  twelve  sciences 
that  go  tQ  the  composition  of  a  consummate  cook ;  nor 
the  crying  injustice  of  omitting  to  point  the  nose  of  the 
curious  traveller  to  Him  of  the  neiv  Masonic  Hall,  great 
in  terrapin  soup — greater  in  fricasees  and  fricandeaux 
— greatest  of  all  in  a  calf's  head !  Neither  would  we 
pass  over  the  modest  merits  of  HIM  OF  THE  GOOSE  AND 
r,  who  like  the  skilful  logician  can  make  the 
2 


14 

Worse  appear  the  better  reason,  and  convert  by  the  magic 
of  his  art,  the  most  ordinary  material  into  dishes  worthy 
the  palates  of  the  most  erudite  members  of  the  Turtle 
Club,  whose  soup  and  whose  jests  are  the  delight  of 
the  universe.  But  we  should  never  have  done,  were 
we  to  pass  in  review  an  "hundred,  yea,  a  thousand  illus 
trious  worthies  to  be  found  in  every  street  and  lane  of 
this  eating  city,  who  tickle  the  cunning  palate  in  all 
the  varieties  of  purse  and  taste,  from  a  slice  of  roast  beef 
and  a  glass  of  beer,  at  a  shilling,  to  grouse  and  canvass 
backs,  and  Bingham  wine,  at  just  as  much  as  the  land 
lord  pleases.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  if,  as  the  best  prac 
tical  philosophers  do  maintain,  the  business  of  man's  life 
is  eating,  there  is  no  place  in  the  universe  where  he  can 
live  to  such  exquisite  purpose  as  the  renowned  city  of 
NEW  YORK.  We  have  heard  it  confessed  by  divers 
condign  Englishmen,  who  had  eaten  and  grumbled  their 
way  through  all  parts  of  Europe,  where  there  was  any 
thing  to  eat,  that  they  no  where  found  such  glorious 
content  of  the  palate,  as  at  this  happy  emporium  of  all 
good  things.  If  any  corroborative  of  this  testimony 
should  be  thought  necessary,  we  will  add  the  experience 
of  twenty- five  years  of  travel  in  various  countries,  during 
which  we  have  tasted,  by  actual  computation,  upwards 
of  five  thousand  different  dishes.  Still  farmer  to  esta 
blish  the  glories  of  our  favourite  city,  we  will  adduce  the 
Authority  of  a  young  gentleman,  who  travelled  several 
.years  on  the  continent,  and  approved  himself  a  compe> 
tent  gourmand,  by  bringing  home  a  confirmed  dyspepsia. 
He  has  permitted  us  to  insert  a  letter  written  originally 
to  a  friend  at  the  south,  which,  besides  setting  forth  tbp 


15 

excellent  attractions  of  NEW  YORK,  exemplifies  in  a 
most  striking  manner  the  benefits  derived  from  travel, 
which  improving  divertisement,  it  is  the  design  of  our 
work  to  encourage  and  provoke  by  all  manner  of  means. 
Truly  did  the  great  philosopher  and  moralist,  Dr.  John 
son,  who  passed  all  his  life  in  the  fear  of  death,  truly 
did  he  inculcate  the  superiority  of  the  knowledge  derived 
from  seeing,  to  all  other  knowledge.  Who  that  hath 
seen  the  grand  opera  at  Paris,  but  will  have  all  his  life 
after  a  more  vivid  impression  of  legs  ?  Who  that  hath 
sojourned  in  the  vast  eating  houses  of  New  York  and 
Paris,  but  will  cherish  an  increasing  sentiment  of  the 
primary  importance  of  the  noble  science  of  gastronomy  ? 
And  who,  that  has  once  beheld  the  magnificent  contrast 
between  the  king  and  his  beggarly  subjects  in  some 
parts  of  the  old  world,  but  must  feel  ennobled  by  the  ex 
ample  of  what  human  nature  is  capable  of,  if  properly 
cultivated  ?  But  to  our  purpose.  The  letter  alluded 
to,  is  one  of  a  series  written  by  the  members  of  a  most 
respectable  family  from  the  south,  to  which  we  have 
politely  been  permitted  access,  and  from  which  we  shall 
occasionally  borrow  some  others, 

STEPHEN  GRIFFEN,  ESQ.  TO  FRANK  LATHAM. 

'New  York, . 

Verily  Frank,  this  same  New  York  is  a  place  that  may 
be  tolerated  for  a  few  weeks,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
Signorina,  the  unequalled  cookery,  and  above  all  the  di 
vine  Madame .  Only  think  of  a  real,  genuine  opera 

dancer  in  these  parts  !  Five  years  ago,  I  should  as  soon 
have  expected  to  see  an  Indian  war  dance  at  the  Theatre 


16 

Francois.  It  is  really  a  vast  comfort  to  have  something 
one  can  relish  after  Paris.  I  think  it  bad  policy  for  a  young 
fellow  to  go  abroad,  unless  he  can  afford  to  spend  the  rest 
of  his  life  in  New  York.  Coming  home  to  a  country- 
life,  is  like  going  from  high  seasoned  dishes  to  ham  and 
chickens.  Such  polite  people  as  one  meets  with  abroad  ; 
they  never  contradict  you  so  long  as  you  pay  them  what 
they  ask  for  every  thing ;  such  a  variety  of  dishes  to  eat ; 
why  Frank,  a  bill  of  fare  at  a  Paris  hotel,  is  as  long  as  a 
list  of  the  passengers  in  Noah's  ark  or  a  Liverpool 
packet ;  and  comprehends  as  great  a  variety  of  animals. 
Nothing  can  equal  it  except  New  York.  And  then 
such  a  succession  of  amusements.  Nobody  ever  yawn 
ed  in  Paris,  except  a  real  John  Bull,  some  of  whom  have 
their  mouths  always  open,  either  to  eat  or  yawn.  To 
see  a  fat  fellow  gaping  in  the  Louvre  you  would  think  he 
came  there  to  catch  flies,  as  the  alligators  do,  by  lying 
with  their  jaws  extended  half  a  yard.  How  I  love  to 
recall  the  dear  delights  of  the  grand  tour ;  and  as  I 
write  at  thee,  not  to  thee,  Frank,  I  will  incontinently 
please  myself  at  this  present,  by  recapitulating,  if  it  be 
only  to  refresh  my  memory,  and  make  thee  miserable  at 
thy  condign  ignorance  of  the  world. 

I  staid  abroad  six  years  ;  just  long  enough  to  cast 
my  skin,  or  shed  my  shell,  as  the  snakes  and  crabs  do 
every  once  and  a  while.  In  France,  I  threw  away  my 
clod-hopping  shoes,  and  learned  to  dance.  I  got  a  new 
stomach  too,  for  I  took  vastly  to  Messrs,  the  re 
staurateurs.  In  Italy,  I  was  drawn  up  the  Appenines 
by  six  horses  and  two  pair  of  oxen,  and  went  to  sleep 
every  day  for  three  weeks,  at  the  feet  of  the  Venus  do 


17 

Medicis.  There  were  other  Venuses  at  whose  feet  I 
did  not  go  to  sleejfc  I  was,  moreover,  deeply  inocu 
lated,  or  rather  as  the  real  genuine  phrase  is,  vaccinated, 
with  a  raving  taste  for  music,  and  opera  dancing,  which 
last,  in  countries  where  refinement  is  got  to  such  a 
pitch  that  nobody  thinks  of  blushing,  is  worth,  as  Mr. 
Jefferson  says  of  Harper's  Ferry,  "  a  voyage  across 
the  Atlantic."  By  the  way,  they  have  an  excellent 
custom  in  Europe,  which  puts  all  the  women  on  a  par. 
They  paint  their  faces  so  that  one  can't  tell  whether 
they  blush  or  not.  Impudence  and  modesty  are  thus 
on  a  level,  and  all  is  as  it  should  be. 

Italy  is  indeed  a  fine  place.  The  women  are  so 
sociable,  and  the  men  so  polite.  France  does  pretty 
well ;  but  even  there  they  sometimes,  particularly  since 
the  brutifying  revolution,  they  sometimes  so  far  forget 
themselves  as  to  feel  dishonour  and  resent  insult.  All 
this  is  owing  to  the  bad  example  of  that  upstart  Napoleon, 
and  his  upstart  officers.  Now  in  Italy,  when  a  gentle 
man  of  substance  takes  an  affront,  he  does  not  dirty  his 
fingers  with  the  affair  ;  he  hires  me  a  fellow  whose  trade 
is  killing,  and  there  is  an  end  of  the  matter.  Tffen  it  is 
such  a  cheap  country.  Every  thing  is  cheap,  and 
women  the  cheapest  of  all.  Every  thing  there,  except 
pagan  antiques,  is  for  sale ;  and  you  can  buy  heaven 
of  his  holiness,  for  a  hundred  times  less  money,  than  it 
costs  to  purchase  the  torso  of  a  heathen  god  without 
legs  or  arms. 

In  Germany  and  especially  at  Vienna,  they  are  excess 
ively  devout — and  what  I  assure  you  is,  in  very  refined 
countries  not  in  the  least  incompatible — exceedingly 
2* 


18 

profligate  at  the  same  time.  I  mean  among  the  higher 
ranks.  This  is  one  of  the  great  sefrets  a  young  fellow 
learns  by  going  abroad.  If  he  makes  good  use  of  his 
time,  his  talents,  and  above  all  his  money,  he  will 
find  the  secret  of  reconciling  a  breach  of  the  whole 
decalogue,  with  the  most  exemplary  piety.  When 
I  was  first  in  Vienna  they  had  the  Mozart  fever, 
and  half  the  city  was  dying  of  it.  On  my  se 
cond  visit  Beethoven  was  all  the  vogue.  He  was  as 
deaf  as  a  post — yet  played  and  composed  divine 
ly  ;  a  proof — you  being  of  the  pure  Gothic  will  say- 
that  music  can  be  no  great  science,  since  it  requires 
neither  ears  nor  understanding.  Beethoven  had  a  long 
beard,  and  a  most  ferocious  countenance ;  there  was 
no  more  music  in  it  than  in  a  lion's.  He  was  moreover 
excessively  rude  and  disobliging,  and  would  not  play  for 
the  emperor  unless  he  was  in  the  humour.  These  pe 
culiarities  made  him  irresistible.  The  Beethoven  fev,er 
was  worse  than  the  Mozart  fever  a  great  deal.  I  re 
turned  a  third  time  to  Vienna — and  Beethoven  was 
starving.  They  were  all  running  after  a  great  preacher, 
who  from  being  the  editor  of  a  liberal  paper,  had  turned 
monk,  and  preached  in  favour  of  the  divine  right  of  the 
emperor,  notwithstanding  the  diet  and  all  that  sort  of 
trumpery.  But  music  is  their  passion — it  is  the  source 
of  their  national  pride. 

I  once  said  to  a  worthy  banker  who  had  charge  of  my 
purse  strings — "  Really  monsieur — you  are  very  loose 
in  your  morals  here."  "  Yes — but  we  are  the  most  mu 
sical  people  in  the  world" — replied  he  triumphantly. 
"  Your  married  ladies  of  fashion  have  such  crowds  of 


19 

lovers."  "  Yes — but  then  they  are  so  musical."  "  And 
then  from  the  prime  minister  Prince  Metternich  down 
wards,  every  man  of  the  least  fashion  is  an  intriguer 
among  women."  "  True  my  dear  sir — but  then  Prince 
Metternich  has  a  private  opera  house,  and  you  hear  the 
divinest  music  there."  "  And  then  the  peasantry  are  in 
such  a  poor  condition — so  ignorant."  "  Ignorant  sir — 
you  mistake — there  is  hardly  one  of  them  but  can  read 
music  !"  Music  covers  a  multitude  of  sins  at  Vienna. 
It  is  worth  while  to  go  to  Vienna  only  to  see  the  pea 
santry — the  female  peasantry  from  the  country,  with 
bags,  picking  up  manure,  and  singing  perhaps  an  air  of 
Mozart  or  Beethoven. 

In  England  I  got  the  last  polish — that  is  to  say,  I 
learned  to  box  enough  to  get  a  black  eye,  now  and  then 
in  a  set-to  with  a  hackney  coachman,  or  an  insolent 
child  of  the  night — videlicet,  a  watchman.  Moreover, 
I  learned  to  give  an  uncivil  answer  to  a  civil  question ; 
to  contradict  without  ceremony ;  to  believe  that  an  Ame 
rican  mammoth  was  not  half  as  big  as  a  Teeswater 
bull ;  that  one  canal  was  worth  a  dozen  rivers  ;  that  a 
rail  road  was  still  better  than  a  canal,  and  a  tunnel  bet 
ter  than  either ;  that  M'Adam  was  a  greater  man  than 
the  Colossus  of  Rhodes ;  that  liberty  was  upon  the 
whole  rather  a  vulgar  ill  bred  minx ;  and  that  a  nation 
without  a  king  and  nobility,  was  no  better  than  a  human 
body  wanting  that  indispensable  requisite,  the  seat  of 
honour.  Finally,  I  brought  home  a  great  number  of 
clever  improvements — to  wit,  a  head  enlightened  with 
a  hundred  conflicting  notions  of  religion,  government, 
morals,  music,  painting,  and  what  not ;  and  a  heart  di- 


20 

vested  of  all  those  vulgarisms  concerning  love  of  coun* 
try,  with  which  young  Americans  are  apt  to  be  impes- 
tered  at  home.  Thus  I  may  say,  I  got  rid  of  all  my 
home  bred  prejudices ;  for  a  man  can  only  truly 
be  said  to  be  without  prejudices  when  he  has  no  de 
cided  opinions  on  any  subject  whatever.  Lastly,  I  had 
contracted  a  habit  of  liberal  curiosity  which  impelled 
me  to  run  about  and  see  all  the  fine  sights  in  the  world. 
I  would  at  any  time  travel  a  hundred  miles  to  visit  an 
old  castle,  ogle  a  Canova,  or  a  Raphael.  In  short,  I 
was  a  gentleman  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  for  I  could 
neither  read,  work,  walk,  ride,  sit  still,  or  devote  my 
self  to  any  one  object  for  an  hour  at  a  time. 

This  was  my  motive  for  coming  hither  : — -I  came  in 
search  of  sensation,  whether  derived  from  eating  lob 
sters,  or  seeing  opera  dancers,  is  all  one  to  me.  But  alas, 
what  is  there  here  to  see,  always  excepting  the  dinners 
and  suppers,  worth  the  trouble  of  opening  one  of  one's 
eyes,  by  a  man  who  has  seen  the  Opera  Francois — the 
Palais  Royale — the  inside  of  a  French  cook  shop — the 
Pantheon — St.  Peter's — the  carnival- — the  coronation— 
and  the  punch  of  all  puppet-shows,  a  legitimate  king — 
besides  rowing  in  a  Venitian  gondola — and  crossing 
Mount  St.  Bernard  on  a  donkey !  Last  olf  all,  friend 
Frank,  I  brought  home  with  me  the  genuine  patent  of' 
modern  gentility — a  dyspepsy,  which  I  caught  at  a  fa 
mous  restaurateurs,  and  helped  to  mature  at  the  Palais 
Royale,  where  they  sit  up  late  at  nights,  eat  late  sup 
pers,  and  lie  abed  till  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

But  this  dyspepsy,  though  excessively  high  bred,  at 
that  time,  is  now  becoming  vulgar.  I  have  actually 


21 

heard  brokers  and  lottery  office  keepers  complain  of  it 
since  my  arrival  here.  Besides  it  spoils  the  pleasure  of 
eating  ;  and  a  man  must  have  made  the  grand  tour  to 
little  purpose,  not  to  know  that  eating  is  one  of  the  chief 
ends  of  man.  I  vegetated  about  for  a  year  or  two, 
sans  employment,  sans  amusement,  sans  every  thing — 
except  dyspepsia.  The  doctor  advised  hard  work  and 
abstinence — remedies  ten  times  worse  than  the  disease 
— to  a  man  who  has  made  the  grand  to*r.  "  Get  a 
wife,  and  go  and  live  on  a  farm  in  *ie  upper  country." 
"  Marry  and  live  in  the  countrr1 — not  ""  i*  would  give 
me  the  digestion  of  an  ost^°h^'  exclaimed  Signior  Ste 
phen  Griffen.  By  tb*  wav>  tms  san*e  Christian  name 
of  mine  is  a  bo^«  GrifFen  will  do — it  smacks  of  he 
raldry  ;  but  Stephen  puts  one  in  mind  of  that  degenerate 
potentate,  whose  breeches  only  cost  him  half  a  crown, 
a  circumstance  in  itself  sufficient  to  stamp  him  with 
ignominy  unutterable.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  pleased  my 
doughty  god-father,  whom  I  shall  never  forgive  for  not 
giving  me  a  better  name,  to  accede  to  the  wishes  of  that 
exceedingly  sensible  rice-fed  young  damsel,  his  pet 
niece,  and  my  predestined  rib,  alias  better  half,  to  visit 
the  springs  at  Ballston  and  Saratoga — the  great  canal 
— the  great  falls — and  other  great  lions  of  these  parts. 
So  here  we  are  established  for  ten  days  or  a  fortnight, 
for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  preparatory  course  of  lob 
sters,  singers,  dancers,  dust  and  ashes.  Broadway  is 
a  perfect  cloud  of  dust.  It  has  been  M'Adamized — 
for  which  may  dust  confound  all  concerned. 

Thine,  S.  G> 


22       . 

The  approach  to  New  York,  either  through  the  Nar 
rows,  or  the  Kills  as  they  are  called,  is  conspicuously 
beautiful,  and  worthy  of  the  excellent  fare  to  which  the 
fortunate  traveller  is  destined,  who  visits  the  city  at  a 
proper  season.     And  here  we  must  caution  our  readers 
to  beware  of  all  those  unlucky  months,  that  are  without 
the  fortunate  letter  R,  which  may  be  called  the  tutelary 
genius  of  oysters,  inasmuch  as  no  oyster  can  enjoy  the 
pleasure  of  bbU^  eaten  in  New  York,  during  any  of  the 
barren  months,  whi^  are  without  this  delightful  conso 
nant.     It  is  against  the  i^w<(  experience  having  demon 
strated  the  ill  effects  of  inft,,jging   in  these  delicious 
dainties  in  hot  weather,  in  the  su«Men  deaths  of  divers 
common  councilmen  after  supper.      Tnr   this  reason 
most  of  the  fashionable  people  go  out  of  town,  during 
those  infamous  months  that  intervene  between  May  and 
August,  not  one  of  which   contains  the  fortunate  R, 
there  being  nothing  left  worth  staying  for.     This  period 
may  justly  be  called  the  season  of  Lent.     No  canvass 
backs — no  venison — no  grouse — no  lobsters — no  oys 
ters  ; — nothing  but  lamb  and  chicken,  and  green  peas  ! 
No  wonder  all  people  of  taste  go  out  of  town,  for  as 
a  famous  prize  poet  writes  : 

"  Without  all  these,  the  town's  a  very  curse, 
Broadway  a  bore,  the  Battery  still  worse  ; 
Wall  Street  the  very  focus  of  all  evil, 
Cook  shops  a  h — 11,  arid  every  cook  the  d— 1." * 

*  See  a  prize  poem  on  the  opening  of  the  Goose  and  Gridiron,  fov 
which  the  fortunate  author  received  a  collation  and  twelve  oyster  sup 
pers,  besides  having  his  mouth  stuffed  full  of  sugar  candy  after  tht 
manner  of  the  Persian  poets. 


23 

New  York  is  not  only  beautiful  in  its  approach,  beau 
tiful  in  itself,  and  consummate  in  eating ;  its  liquors  are 
inimitable — divine.  Who  has  not  tasted  the  "  Bing- 
ham" — the  "  Marston" — the  "  Nabob" — and  the  "  Billy 
Ludlow !"  Above  all,  who  has  not  tasted  of  the  unpa 
ralleled  "Resurrection"  wine — so  called  from  its  having 
once  actually  brought  a  man  to  life,  after  he .  was  stone 
dead  under  the  table.  Nobody  ever  died  until  they  had 
no  more  of  this  wine  left ;  and  a  famous  physician  once 
affirmed  in  our  presence,  that  every  drop  was  as  good 
as  a  drop  of  buoyant,  frisky  youthful  blood  added  to  the 
body  corporate.  No  wonder  then  that  eating  and  drink 
ing  is  the  great  business  of  life  in  New  York,  among 
people  that  can  or  cannot  afford  these  exquisite  dain 
ties,  and  that  they  talk  of  nothing  else  at  dinner ;  for  as 
the  same  illustrious  prize  poet  has  it, — 

"  Five  senses  were  by  ever  bounteous  heaven, 
To  the  thrice  lucky  son  of  Adam  given. 
Seeing,  that  he  might  drink  e'en  with  his  eyes, 
And  catch  the  promise  that  taste  rarifies  ; 
Hearing,  that  he  might  list  the  jingling  glass, 
That  were  he  blind  might  unsuspected  pass  ; 
Smelling,  that  when  all  other  sense  is  gone, 
Will  for  their  traitorous  absence  half  atone ; 
And  feeling,  which,  when  the  dim,  shadowy  sight. 
No  longer  guides  the  pious  pilgrim  right, 
Gropes  its  slow  way  unerring  to  the  shop, 
Where  Dolly  tosses  up  her  mutton  chop, 
And  sacred  steams  of  roasted  oysters  rise 
Like  incense  to  the  lean  and  hungry  skies."^ 

Of  the  manner  in  which  the  various  manoeuvres  ol 
gastronomy  are  got  through  in  New  York,  at  dinners,. 

\ 


24 

and  evening  parties,  the  following,  which  we  have  po*- 
litely  been  permitted  to  copy  from  the  unpublished  let' 
ters  we  spoke  of,  will  sufficiently  apprize  the  courteous 
reader.  It  is  high  ton  throughout  we  assure  him, 
though  there  are  at  present  some  symptomatic  indica 
tions  of  a  change  for  the  better — at  least  according  to 
the  notions  of  Colonel  Culpeper — in  the  evening  parties, 
from  whence  it  is  we  understand,  contemplated  to  ba 
nish  late  hours,  oysters,  and  champagne.  Against  this 
last  innovation  we  protest  in  the  name  of  posterity  and 
the  immortal  gods.  Banish  beauty — banish  grace — ba 
nish  music,  dancing,  flirtation,  ogling,  and  making  love 
— but  spare,  O  spare  us  the  oysters  and  champagne  ? 
What  will  become  of  the  brisk  gallantry  of  the  beaux, 
the  elegant  vivacity  of  the  belles,  the  pleasures  of  anti 
cipation,  and  the  ineffable  delights  of  fruition,  if  you  ba 
nish  oysters  and  champagne  ? 

The  fashionable  reader  will  be  tempted  to  smile  at 
the  colonel's  antediluvian  notions,  of  style  and  good 
breeding ;  but  what  can  you  expect  from  a  man  born 
and  brought  up  among  the  high  hills  of  Santee  ?  His 
strictures  on  waltzing  are  especially  laughable.  What 
do  women — we  mean  fashionable  women — dress  and 
undress,  wear  bishops,  and  wind  themselves  into  the  ele 
gantly  lascivious  motions  of  the  waltz  for,  but  to  excite 
sensation  in  the  gentlemen,  who  ought  to  be  eternally 
gratefol  for  the  pains  they  take. 


25 


COLONEL  CULPEPER  TO  MAJOR  BRANDE. 

New  York,  May  6,  1827. 

DEAR  MAJOR, — I  have  been  so  occupied  of  late  in 
seeing  sights,  eating  huge  dinners,  and  going  to  eve 
ning  parties  to  matronize  Lucia,  that  I  had  no  time 
to  write  to  you.  The  people  here  are  very  hospitable, 
though  not  exactly  after  the  manner  of  the  high  hills  of 
Santee.  They  give  you  a  great  dinner  or  evening  party, 
and  then,  as  the  sage  Master  Stephen  Griffen  is  pleased 
to  observe,  "  let  you  run."  These  dinners  seem  to  be 
in  the  nature  of  a  spasmodic  effort,  which  exhausts  the 
purse  or  the  hospitality  of  the  entertainer,  and  is  fol 
lowed  by  a  collapse  of  retrenchment.  You  recollect 

,  who  staid  at  my  house,  during  a  fit  of  illness,  for 

six  weeks,  the  year  before  last.  He  has  a  fine  house, 
the  inside  of  which  looks  like  an  upholsterer's  shop,  and 
lives  in  style.  He  gave  me  an  invitation  to  dinner,  at 
a  fortnight's  notice,  where  I  ate  out  of  a  set  of  China, 
my  lady  assured  me  cost  seven  hundred  dollars,  and 
drank  out  of  glasses  that  cost  a  guinea  a  piece.  In 
short,  there  was  nothing  on  the  table  of  which  I  did  not 
learn  the  value,  most  especially  the  wine,  some  of  which 
mine  entertainer  gave  the  company  his  word  of  honour, 
stood  him  in  eight  dollars  a  bottle,  besides  the  inte 
rest,  and  was  half  a  century  old.  I  observed  very 
gravely,  that  it  bore  its  age  so  remarkably  well,  that  I 
really  took  it  to  be  in  the  full  vigour  of  youth.  Upon 
which  all  the  company  set  me  down  as  a  bore. 

In  place  of  the  pleasant  chit-chat  and  honest  jollity  of 
3 


26 

better  times,  there  was  nothing  talked  of  but  the  quality 
of  the  gentleman's  wines,  which  I  observed  were  esti 
mated  entirely  by  their  age  and  prices.  One  boasted 
of  his  Bingham,  another  of  his  Marston  ;  a  third  of  his 
Nabob,  and  a  fourth  of  his  Billy  Ludlow.  All  this  was 
Greek  to  me,  who  was  obliged  to  sit  stupidly  silent,  ha 
ving  neither  Bingham,  nor  Marston,  nor  Nabob,  nor 
Billy  liudlow ;  nor  indeed  any  other  wine  of  name  or 
pedigree :  for  the  fact  is,  as  you  very  well  know,  my 
wine  goes  so  fast,  it  has  no  time  to  grow  old. 

But  there  was  one  pursy,  pompous  little  man  at  table, 
a  foreigner,  I  think,  who  my  lady  whispered  me  was 
worth  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars,  who  beat  the  others 
all  hollow.  He  actually  had  in  his  garret  a  dozen  of 
wine  seventy  years  old,  last  grass,  that  had  been  in  his 
family  fifty  years — which  by  the  way,  as  a  sly  neighbour 
on  my  right  assured  me,  was  farther  back  than  he  could 
carry  his  own  pedigree.  This  seemed  to  raise  him 
high  above  all  competition,  and  gave  great  effect  to  seve 
ral  of  the  very  worst  jokes  I  ever  heard.  It  occurred  to 
me,  however,  that  his  friends  had  been  little  the  better 
for  the  wine  thus  hoarded  to  brag  about.  For  my  part, 
I  never  yet  met  a  real  honest,  liberal,  hospitable  fellow 
that  had  much  old  wine.  Occasionally  the  conversa* 
tion  varied  into  discussions  as  to  who  was  the  best 
judge  of  wine,  and  there  was  a  serious  contest  about  a 
bottle  of  Bingham  and  a  bottle  of  Marston,  which  I  was 
afraid  would  end  in  a  duel.  All,  however,  bowed  to  the 
supremacy  of  one  particular  old  gentleman,  who  made 
a  bet  that  he  would  shut  his  eyes,  hold  his  nose,  and 
distinguish  between  six  different  kinds  of  Madeira.  I 


27 

clid  not  think  much  of  this,  as  a  man  dont  drink  wine 
either  with  his  eyes  or  nose  ;  but  politely  expressed  my 
wonder,  and  smacked  my  lips,  and  cried,  "Ah!"  in 
unison  with  this  Winckelman  of  wine  bibbers,  like  a 
veritable  connoisseur. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  these  dinners  are  genteel  and 
splendid,  because  every  body  here  says  so.  But  be 
tween  ourselves,  major,  I  was  ennui  in  spite  of  Bing- 
ham  and  Marston,  and  the  Nabob.  There  wanted  the 
zest,  the  ease,  the  loose  gown  and  slippers,  the  elbow 
room  for  the  buoyant,  frisky  spirits  to  curvet  and  gam 
bol  a  little ;  without  which  your  Bingham  and  canvass 
backs,  are  naught.  In  the  midst  of  all  this  display,  1 
sighed  for  bacon  and  greens  and  merry  faces.*  As  I 
am  a  Christian  gentleman,  there  was  not  the  tithe  of  a 
good  thing  said  at  the  table,  and  to  my  mind,  eating  and 
drinking  good  things  is  nothing  without  a  little  accom 
panying  wit  and  humour  as  sauce.  The  little  pursy, 
important  man  of  a  million,  it  is  true  succeeded  several 
times  in  raising  a  laugh,  by  the  weight  of  his  purse 
rather  than  the  point  of  his  joke.  The  dinner  lasted 
six  hours,  at  the  end  of  which,  the  company  was  more 
silent  than  at  the  beginning,  a  sure  sign  of  something 
being  wanting.  For  my  part,  I  may  truly  affirm,  1 
never  was  at  a  more  splendid  dinner,  or  one  more  mor 
tally  dull.  However  my  friend  paid  his  debt  of  hospi 
tality  by  it,  for  I  have  not  seen  the  inside  of  his  house 
since.  He  apologizes  for  not  paying  me  any  more 

*  It  is  plain  the  colonel  knows  nothing  of  Tournure.  Bacon  an.fl 
greens— stuff! 


28 

attention,  by  saying  his  house  is  all  topsy-turvy,  witii 
new  papering  and  painting,  but  assures  me  that  by  the 
time  we  return  in  autumn  madam  will  be  in  a  condition 
to  give  us  a  little  party.  I  believe  he  holds  me  cheap 
because  I  have  no  dear  wine  that  stands  me  in  eight 
dollars  a  bottle. 

'Tis  the  fashion  of  the  times,  so  let  it  pass.  But 
fashion  or  not,  nothing  in  the  range  of  common  sense, 
can  rescue  this  habit  of  cumbrous  display,  and  clumsy 
ostentation,  from  the  reproach  of  bad  taste  and  vulga 
rity.  This  loading  of  the  table  with  costly  finery  and 
challenging  our  admiration  by  giving  us  the  price  of  each 
article  ;  this  boasting  of  the  age,  the  goodness,  and 
above  all  the  cost  of  the  wine,  is  little  better  than  telling 
the  guests,  they  are  neither  judges  of  what  is  valuable  in 
furniture,  nor  commendable  in  wines.  Why  not  let 
them  find  these  things  out  themselves  ;  or  remain  in 
most  happy  ignorance  of  the  value  of  a  set  of  China,  and 
the  age  of  a  bottle  of  wine.  It  is  for  the  tradesman  to 
brag  of  his  wares,  and  the  wine  merchant  of  his  wines, 
because  they  wish  to  sell  them ;  but  the  giver  of  good 
things  should  never  overwhelm  the  receiver  with  the 
weight  of  gratitude  by  telling  him  their  value. 

From  the  dinner  party,  which  broke  up  at  nine,  1 
accompanied  the  young  people  to  a  tea  party,  being  de 
sirous  of  shaking  off  the  heaviness  of  that  modern  merry 
making.  We  arrived  about  a  quarter  before  ten,  and  found 
the  servant  just  lighting  the  lamps.  There  was  not  a  soul 
in  the  room  but  him.  He  assured  me  the  lady  would  be 
down  to  receive  us  in  half  an  hour,  being  then  under  the 
hands  of  Monsieur  Manuel,  the  hair  dresser,  who  was  en- 


29 

gaged  till  nine  o'clock  with  other  ladies.  You  must  know 
this  Manuel  is  the  fashionable  hair  dresser  of  the  city, 
and  it  is  not  uncommon  for  ladies  to  get  their  heads 
dressed  the  day  before  they  are  wanted,  and  sit  up  all 
night  to  preserve  them  in  their  proper  buckram  rigidity. 
Monsieur  Manuel,  as  I  hear,  has  two  dollars  per  head, 
besides  a  dollar  for  coach  hire,  it  being  utterly  impos 
sible  for  monsieur  to  walk.  His  time  is  too  precious. 

We  had  plenty  of  leisure  to  admire  the  rooms  and  de 
corations,  for  Monsieur  Manuel  was  in  no  hurry.  I 
took  a  nap  on  the  sopha,  under  a  superb  lustre  which 
shed  a  quantity  of  its  honours  upon  my  best  merino 
coat,  sprinkling  it  handsomely  with  spermaceti.  About 
half  past  ten  the  lady  entered  in  all  the  colours  of  the 
rainbow,  and  all  the  extravagance  of  vulgar  finery.  I 
took  particular  notice  of  her  head,  which  beyond  doubt, 
was  the  master  piece  of  Monsieur  Manuel.  It  was 
divested  of  all  its  natural  features,  which  I  suppose  is 
the  perfection  of  art.  There  was  nothing  about  it 
which  looked  like  hair,  except  it  was  petrified  hair.  All 
the  graceful  waving  lightness  of  this  most  beautiful  gift 
of  woman,  was  lost  in  curls  stiff  and  ungraceful  as  de 
formity  could  make  them,  and  hair  plastered  to  the  head 
till  it  glistened  like  an  overheated  "  gentleman  of  colour." 
She  made  something  like  an  apology  for  not  being  ready 
to  receive  us,  which  turned  however  pretty  much  on  not 
expecting  any  company  at  such  an  early  hour.  Between 
ten  and  eleven  the  company  began  to  drop  in  ;  but  the 
real  fashionables  did  not  arrive  till  about  half  past  eleven* 
by  which  time  the  room  was  pretty  well  filled.  It  was 
what  they  call  a  conversation  party,  one  at  which  there 
3* 


30 

was  neither  cards  nor  dancing ;  of  course  I  expected  t& 
enjoy  some  agreeable  chit-chat.  Old  bachelor  as  I  am? 
and  for  ladies'  love  unfit,  still  I  delight  in  the  smiles  of 
beauty,  and  the  music  of  a  sweet  voice  speaking  intelli 
gence  is  to  me  sweeter  than  the  harmony  of  the  spheres? 
or  the  Italian  opera. 

Accordingly,  I  made  interest  for  introductions  to  two 
or  three  of  the  most  promising  faces,  and  attempted  a 
little  small  talk.  The  first  of  these  commenced  by 
asking  me  in  a  voice  that  almost  made  me  jump  out  of 
my  seat,  if  I  had  been  at  Mrs.  Somebody's  party  last 
week  1  To  the  which  I  replied  in  the  negative.  After 
a  moment's  pause,  she  asked  me  if  I  was  going  to  Mrs- 
Somebody's  party  the  next  evening  1  To  the  which,  in 
like  manner,  I  replied  in  the  negative.  Another  pause, 
and  another  question,  whether  I  was  acquainted  with 
another  Mrs.  Somebody,  who  was  going  to  give  a  par 
ty  ?  To  this  I  was  obliged  to  give  another  negation ; 
when  the  young  lady  espying  a  vacant  seat  in  a  corner 
on  the  opposite  side,  took  flight  without  ceremony,  and 
by  a  puss-in-the-comer  movement,  seated  herself  be 
side  another  young  lady,  with  whom  she  entered  into 
conversation  with  a  most  interesting  volubility. 

Though  somewhat  discouraged,  I  tried  my  fortune  a 
second  time,  with  a  pale,  delicate,  and  interesting  look 
ing  little  girl,  who  I  had  fancied  to  myself  was  of 
ethereal  race  and  lived  upon  air,  she  looked  so  light  and 
graceful.  By  way  of  entering  wedge,  I  asked  her  the 
name  of  a  lady,  who,  by  the  bye,  had  nothing  very  par 
ticular  about  her,  except  her  dress,  which  was  extrava 
gantly  fine.  My  imaginary  sylph  began  to  expatiate 


31 

upon  its  beauty  and  taste  in  a  most  eloquent  manner ? 
and  concluded  by  saying  :  "  But  its  a  pity  she  wears  it 
so  often."  Why  so  1  "  O  why — because."  Is  it  the 
worse  for  wear  1  "0  dear  no  ;  but  then  one  sees  it  so 
often."  But  if  'tis  handsome,  the  oftener  the  better,  I 
should  think  ;  beauty  cannot  be  too  often  contemplated, 
said  I,  looking  in  her  face  rather  significantly.  What 
effect  this  might  have  had  upon  her  I  cant  say,  for  just 
then,  I  observed  a  mysterious  agitation  among  the  com 
pany,  which  was  immediately  followed  by  the  appear 
ance  of  a  number  of  little  tables  wheeled  into  the  room 
by  servants  in  great  force,  and  covered  with  splendid  ser 
vices  of  China,  filled  with  pickled  oysters,  oyster  soup, 
celery,  dressed  lobsters,  ducks,  turkeys,  pastry,  con 
fectionary,  and  the  Lord  knows  what  besides.  My  lit 
tle  ethereal  upon  this  started  up,  and  seated  herself  at 
a  little  round  marble  table,  which  was  placed  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  room,  and  commenced  her  supper,  by  the  aid 
of  two  obsequious  swains,  who  waited  on  her  with  the 
spoils  of  the  grand  table.  I  never  could  bear  to  see  a 
young  woman  eat  when  I  was  a  young  man,  and  I  have 
never  seen  above  half  a  dozen  ladies,  who  knew  how  to 
eat  with  a  proper  degree  of  sentimental  indifference. 
It  is  at  the  best  but  a  vulgar,  earthly,  matter  of  fact  busi 
ness,  and  brings  all  people  on  a  level,  belles  and  beaux, 
refined  and  not  refined.  It  is  in  fact,  a  sheer  animal 
gratification,  and  a  young  damsel  should  never,  if  pos 
sible,  let  her  lover  see  her  eat,  until  after  marriage. 

Now,  major,  let  me  premise,  that  I  am  not  going  to 
romance  one  tittle  when  I  tell  you  I  was  astounded  at 
the  trencher  feats  of  my  little  sylph  like  ethereal.  It 


32 

was  not  in  the  spirit  of  ill  natured  espionage,  I  assure 
you,  that  I  happened  to  look  at  her  as  she  took  her  seat 
at  the  little  round  table  ;  but  having  once  looked,  I  was 
fascinated  to  the  spot.  Here  follows  a  bill  of  fare  which 
she  discussed,  and  I  am  willing  to  swear  to  every  item. 

Imprimis — Pickled  oysters. 

Item — Oyster  soup. 

Item — Dressed  lobster  and  celery. 

Item — Two  jellies. 

Item — Macaronies. 

Item — Kisses. 

Item — Whip  syllabub. 

Item — Blanc  mange. 

Item — Ice  creams. 

Item — Floating  island. 

Item — Alamode  beef. 

Item — Cold  turkey. 

Item — A  partridge  wing. 

Item — Roast  duck  and  onions. 

Item — Three  glasses  of  brown  stout,  &c.  &<5, 
Do  you  remember  the  fairy  tale  where  a  man  eats  an 
much  bread  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  as  "served  a  whole 
city]  I  never  believed  a  word  of  it  till  now.  But  all  this 
is  vulgar  you  will  say.  Even  so  ;  but  the  vulgarity  con 
sists  in  eating  so  horrifically,  not  in  noticing  it.  The  thing 
is  intrinsically  ill  bred,  and  should  this  practice  continue  to 
gain  ground,  there  is  not  the  least  doubt  that  the  number 
of  old  bachelors  and  maidens  will  continue  to  increase 
and  multiply  in  a  manner  quite  contrary  to  Scripture.  To 
conclude  this  heart  rending  subject,  I  venture  to  affirm* 
that  assemblages  of  this  kind,  ought  to  be  called  eating, 


instead  of  tea  drinking,  or  conversation  parties.  Their 
relative  excellence  and  attraction  is  always  estimated 
among  the  really  fashionable,  refined  people,  by  the 
quality  and  quantity  of  the  eatables  and  drinkables.  One 
great  requisite,  is  plenty  of  oysters ;  but  the  sine  qua  non* 
is  oceans  of  champagne.  Master  Stephen,  who  is  high 
authority  in  a  case  of  this  sort,  pronounced  this  party  quite 
unexceptionable,  for  there  was  little  conversation,  a  great 
deal  of  eating,  and  the  champagne  so  plenty,  that  nine 
first  rate  dandies  including  himself,  got  so  merry,  that 
they  fell  fast  asleep  on  the  benches  of  the  supper  table 
up  stairs.  I  can  answer  for  king  Stephen,  who  was  dis 
covered,  in  this  situation  at  three  in  the  morning  when 
the  fashionables  began  to  think  of  going  home. 

For  my  part,  major,  I  honestly  confess,  I  was  again 
ennui,  even  unto  yawning  desperately  in  the  very  teeth  of 
beauty.  But  I  dont  lay  it  altogether  to  the  charge  of 
the  party,  being  somewhat  inclined  to  suspect  the  jokes 
df  the  little  man  of  a  million,  and  the  Bingham  wine  were 
partly  at  the  bottom  of  the  business.  I  wonder  how  it 
came  into  the  heads  of  people  of  a  moderate  common 
sense,  that  old  wine,  could  ever  make  people  feel  young 
and  consequently  merry.  There  is  gout,  past,  present 
and  future — gout  personal,  real  and  hereditary,  lurking 
at  the  bottom  of  old  wine  ;  and  nothing  can  possibly 
prevent  this  universal  consequence  of  drinking  it,  but  a 
natural  and  incurable  vulgarity  of  constitution,  which 
cannot  assimilate  itself  to  a  disease  of  such  genteel 
prigin. 

I  have  since  been  at  several  of  these  first  rate  fash-* 
ionable  conversationes,  where  there  was  almost  the  samo 


34 

company,  the  same  eatables  and  drinkables,  and  the  same 
lack  of  pleasing  and  vivacious  chit-chat.  I  sidled  up 
to  several  little  groups,  whose  loud  laugh  and  promising 
gestures,  induced  me  to  believe,  there  was  something 
pleasant  going  on.  But  I  assure  you  nothing  could 
equal  the  vapid  insignificance  of  their  talk.  There 
was  nothing  in  it,  but  "  La,  were  you  at  the  ball  last 
night  ?" — and  'then  an  obstreperous  roar  of  ill  bred, 
noisy  laughter.  There  is  no  harm  in  people  talking  in 
this  way,  but  it  is  a  cruel  deceit  upon  the  unwary,  to 
allure  a  man  into  listening.  In  making  my  observa 
tions,  it  struck  me,  that  many  of  the  young  ladies  look 
ed  sleepy,  and  the  elderly  ones  did  certainly  yawn  most 
unmercifully.  There  was  at  one  of  these  polite  stuff 
ings,  an  elderly  lady,  between  whose  jaws  and  mine  a 
most  desperate  sympathy  grew  up  and  flourished.  Our 
mouths  if  not  our  eyes,  may  truly  be  said  to  have  met  in 
this  accord  of  inanity,  and  twenty  times  in  the  course  of 
the  evening  did  we  involuntarily  exchange  these  tokens 
of  mutual  good  understanding.  The  next  party  we  hap 
pened  to  meet  at,  I  determined  to  practise  the  most  re 
solute  self  denial ;  but  it  would  not  do  ;  there  was  an 
awful  and  irresistible  attraction  about  the  maelstrom  of 
her  mouth,  that  drew  me  toward  its  vortex,  and  we  have 
continued  to  yawn  at  each  other  whenever  we  have  met 
since.  Wherever  I  turn  my  eyes,  the  cavern  opes  be 
fore  me,  and  my  old  habit  of  yawning  has  become  ten 
times  more  rife  than  ever. 

But  seriously  speaking,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at, 
that  the  indefatigable  votaries  of  fashion  should  look 
sleepy  at  these  parties.  Some  of  them  have  sat  up  all 


35 

tlie  night  before  perhaps,  in  order  not  to  discompose  the 
awful  curls  of  Monsieur  Manuel.  Others,  and  I  am 
told  the  major  part  of  them,  have  been  at  parties  five 
nights  in  the  week,  for  two  or  three  months  past.  You 
will  recollect,  that  owing  to  the  absurd  and  ridiculous 
aping  of  foreign  whims  and  fashions,  these  evening  par 
ties  do  not  commence  till  the  evening  is  past,  nor  end 
till  the  morning  is  come.  Hence  it  is  impossible  to  go 
to  one  of  them,  without  losing  a  whole  night's  rest^ 
which  is  to  be  made  up,  by  lying  in  bed  the  greater  part 
of  the  next  day.  Such  a  course  for  a  whole  season, 
must  wither  the  physical  and  moral  strength,  and  con 
vert  a  young  woman  into  a  mere  machine,  to  be  wound 
up  for  a  few  hours  by  the  artificial  excitements  of  the 
splendours  of  wealth,  the  vain  gratification  of  tempo 
rary  admiration,  or  the  more  substantial  stimulus  of  the 
bill  of  fare,  of  the  sylph  ethereal  aforesaid.  It  is  no 
Wonder  their  persons  are  jaded,  their  eyes  sunk,  their 
chests  flattened,  their  sprightliness  repressed  by  mid 
night  revels,  night  after  night,  and  that  they  supply  the 
absence  of  all  these,  by  artificial  allurements  of  dress, 
and  artificial  pulmonic  vivacity.  You  will  wonder  to 
hear  a  chivalrous  old  bachelor  rail  at  this  ill  natured 
fate.  But  the  truth  is,  I  admire  the  last  best  work  so 
fervently,  that  I  cant  endure  to  see  it  spoiled  and  so 
phisticated,  by  a  preposterous  imitation  of  what  is  call 
ed  the  fashion ;  and  so  love  the  native  charms  of  our 
native  beauties,  that  it  grieves  my  heart  and  rouses  my 
ire  to  see  them  thus  blighted,  withered  and  destroyed 
in  the  midnight  chase  of  a  phantom  miscalled  plea*- 
sure> 


36 

Not  three  years  ago,  I  am  told,  it  was  the  custom  to 
go  to  a  party  at  eight,  and  come  away  at  twelve,  or 
sooner.  By  this  sober  and  rational  arrangement,  a 
young  lady  might  indulge  in  the  very  excess  of  fashion 
able  dissipation,  without  absolutely  withering  the  roses 
of  her  cheeks,  and  dying  at  thirty  of  premature  old  age. 
But  in  an  evil  hour,  some  puppy,  who,  like  my  Master 
Stephen,  had  seen  the  world,  or  some  silly  woman,  that 
had  been  three  months  abroad,  came  home,  and  turned 
up  the  nose  at  these  early  vulgarities — told  how  the 
fashionable  parties  began  at  midnight,  and  ended  at  sun 
rise — and  that  they  all  laughed  at  the  vulgar  hours  of 
the  vulgar  parties  of  the  vulgar  republicans.  This  was 
enough  ;  Mistress  Somebody,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Such  a 
one,  who  had  a  fine  house  in  a  certain  street,  "  with 
folding  doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces,"  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,  set  the  fashion,  and  now  the  gentility  of 
a  party  is  estimated  in  no  small  degree  by  the  hour.  If 
you  want  to  be  tolerably  genteel,  you  must  not  go  till 
half  past  nine — if  very  genteel,  at  ten — if  exceedingly 
genteel,  at  eleven ; — but  if  you  want  to  be  superla 
tively  genteel,  you  must  not  make  your  appearance 
till  twelve. 

The  crying  absurdity  of  this  arrangement,  in  a  so 
ciety  where  almost  every  person  at  these  parties,  has 
business  or  duties  of  some  kind  to  attend  to  by  nine 
o'clock  the  next  day,  must  be  apparent.  The  whole 
thing  is  at  war  with  the  state  of  society  here,  and  in 
compatible  with  the  system  of  domestic  arrangements, 
and  out  door  business.  It  is  a  pitiful  aping  of  people 
abroad,  whose  sole  pursuit  is  pleasure,  and  who  can 


37 

turn  day  into  night,  and  night  into  day,  without  paying 
any  other  penalty  but  the  loss  of  health,  and  the  aban 
donment  of  all  pretensions  to  usefulness.  If  our  tra 
velled  gentry  cannot  bring  home  something  more  valua 
ble  than  these  mischievous  absurdities,  they  had  better 
stay  at  home.  They  remind  me  of  our  good  friend 
Sloper,  who  spent  seven  years  travelling  in  the  east,  and 
brought  nothing  home  with  him  but  an  excellent  mode 
of  spoiling  rice  and  chickens,  by  cooking  them  after  the 
Arabian  fashion. 

Among  the  most  disgusting  of  these  importations  is, 
the  fashion  of  waltzing,  which  is  becoming  common 
here  of  late.  It  was  introduced  as  I  understand,  by  a 
party  of  would  be  fashionables,  that  saw  it  practised  at 
the  operas,  with  such  enchanting  langour,  grace  and 
lasciviousness,  that  they  fell  in  love  with  it,  and  deter 
mined  to  bless  their  country  by  transplanting  the  pre 
cious  exotic.  I  would  not  be  understood  to  censure 
those  nations  among  whom  the  waltz  is,  as  it  were,  in 
digenous — a  national  dance.  Habit,  example  and  prac 
tice  from  their  earliest  youth,  accustom  the  women  of 
these  countries  to  the  exhibition,  and  excuse  it.  But 
for  an  American  woman,  with  all  her  habits  and  opi 
nions  already  formed,  accustomed  to  certain  restraints, 
and  brought  up  with  certain  notions  of  propriety,  to  rush 
at  once  into  a  waltz,  to  brave  the  just  sentiment  of  the 
delicate  of  her  own  and  the  other  sex,  with  whom  she 
has  been  brought  up,  and  continues  to  associate,  is  little 
creditable  to  her  good  sense,  her  delicacy  or  her  morals. 
Every  woman  does,  or  ought  to  know,  that  she  cannot 
exhibit  herself  in  the  whirling  and  lascivious  windings 
4 


38 

of  a  waltz,  without  calling  up  in  the  minds  of  men, 
feelings  and  associations  unworthy  the  dignity  and  pu 
rity  of  a  delicate  female.  The  lascivious  motions — the 
up  turned  eyes — the  die  away  languors — the  dizzy  cir- 
clings — the  twining  arms — and  projecting  front — all 
combine  to  waken  in  the  bosom  of  the  spectators  an 
alogies,  associations,  and  passions,  which  no  woman, 
who  values  the  respect  of  the  world,  ought  ever  wilfully 
challenge  or  excite. 

I  must  not  forget  one  thing  that  amused  me,  amid  all 
this  aping  and  ostentation.  I  was  at  first  struck  \Vith 
the  profusion  of  servants,  lamps,  and  China,  and  silver 
forks  at  these  parties,  and  could  not  help  admiring  the 
magnificence  of  the  entertainer,  as  well  as  his  wealth. 
But  by  degrees,  it  began  to  strike  me,  that  I  had  seen 
these  things  before ;  and  at  last  I  fairly  detected  a  splen 
did  tureen,  together  with  divers  elegant  chandeliers  and 
lamps,  which  I  had  actually  admired  the  night  before  at 
a  party  in  another  part  of  the  town.  As  to  my  old 
friend  Simon,  and  his  squires  of  the  body,  he  and  I  are 
hand  and  glove.  I  see  him  and  his  people,  and  the  tu 
reen,  and  the  China,  and  the  lampb>  every  where.  They 
are  all  hired,  in  imitation  of  the  fashionable  people 
abroad..  They  undertake  for  every  thing  here,  from 
furnishing  a  party,  to  burying  a  Christian.  I  cant  help 
thinking  it  is  a  paltry  attempt  at  style.  But  adieu,  for 
the  present.  I  am  tired — are  not  you  ? 

If  ever  the  pure  and  perfect  system  of  equality  was 
completely  exemplified  upon  earth,  it  will  be  found  in 
New  York,  where  it  is  the  fashion  to  dress  without  any 


39 

regard  to  time,  place,  or  purse.  There  is  no  place 
where  the  absurd,  antiquated  maxim  of  "  cutting  your 
coat  according  to  your  cloth,"  is  so  properly  and  con 
summately  cut,  as  here,  where  a  full  dress  is  indispen 
sable  on  all  occasions,  particularly  in  walking  Broadway 
or  going  to  church.  Whoever  wishes  to  see  beauty  in  all 
its  glory,  must  walk  Broadway  of  a  morning,  or  visit  a 
fashionable  church — for  there  is  a  fashion  in  churches — 
on  a  fine  Sunday.  On  these  occasions  it  is  delightfully 
refreshing  to  see  a  fashionable,  looking  like  a  ship  on  a 
gala  day,  dressed  in  the  flags  of  all  nations.  Many 
cynical  blockheads,  who  are  at  least  a  hundred  years 
behind  the  march  of  mind  and  the  progress  of  public 
improvements,  aifect  to  say  this  beautiful  and  florid 
style  of  dressing  in  the  streets  or  at  church  is  vulgar ; 
but  we  denounce  such  flagrant  fopperies  of  opinion, 
maintaining  that  so  far  from  being  reprehensible,  it  is 
perfectly  natural,  and  therefore  perfectly  proper.  The 
love  of  finery  is  inherent  in  our  nature  ;  it  is  appetitus 
innatus — and  all  experience  indicates  that  the  more 
ignorant,  unsophisticated  people  are,  the  more  fond  are 
they  of  finery.  The  negro,  (meaning  no  offence,  as  it 
is  an  illustration,  not  a  comparison,)  the  African  negro, 
adores  a  painted  gourd,  decked  with  feathers  of  all 
colours  ;  the  Nooaheevians  affect  the  splendours  of  a 
great  whale's  tooth  ;  the  Esquimaux  will  starve  them 
selves  to  purchase  a  clam  shell  of  red  paint ;  the  In 
dians  sell  their  lands  for  red  leggins  and  tin  medals ; 
and  the  whites  run  in  debt  for  birds  of  Paradise,  French 
hats,  training  chains,  and  Cashmere  shawls.  All  this  is 
as  it  should  be,  and  so  far  from  betokening  effeminacy 


40 

or  undue  refinement,  is  an  infallible  indication  of  at* 
approach  to  the  primitive  simplicity  of  nature. 

This  barbarous,  or  more  properly  natural  taste  or 
passion  for  finery  pervades  all  classes  of  people  in  this 
delightful  city,  and  if  there  is  any  superiority  of  dress 
observable,  it  is  among  the  most  vulgar  and  ignorant ; 
in  other  words  those  who  are  nearest  to  a  state  of  na 
ture.  The  maid  is,  if  possible,  finer  than  the  mistress  ; 
displays  as  many  feathers,  and  flowers,  and  exhibits  the 
same  rigidity  of  baked  curls,  so  that  in  walking  the 
streets,  were  it  not  for  that  infallible  private  mark  of  a 
gentlewoman,  the  foot  and  ancle,  nobody  but  then- 
friends  could  tell  the  difference.  There  are,  as  we  have 
been  credibly  informed,  Lombard  and  Banking  Compa 
nies  incorporated  by  the  legislature,  on  purpose  to  main 
tain  this  beautiful  equality  in  dress,  every  article  of  which 
from  a  worked  muslin  to  a  lace  veil,  may  be  hired  "  at 
prices  to  accommodate  customers,"  and  a  fine  lady  fitted 
out  for  a  cruise,  at  a  minute's  warning. 

This  beautiful  exemplification  of  a  perfect  equality, 
extends  to  the  male  class  also.  He  that  brushes  his 
master's  coat,  often  wears  a  better  coat  than  his  master  ; 
and  Cuifee  himself,  the  free  gentleman  of  colour,  struts 
up  and  down  Broadway,  arm  in  arm,  four  abreast, 
elbowing  the  fine  ladies,  clothed  from  head  to  foot  in 
regent's  cloth  of  fourteen  dollars  a  yard.  All  this  re 
dounds  unutterably  to  the  renown  of  the  city,  and  causes 
it  to  be  the  delight  of  sojourners  and  travellers,  who  in 
stead  of  having  their  eyes  offended  and  their  feelings 
outraged  by  exhibitions  of  inglorious  linsey*  woolsey, 
and  vulgar  calico,  sec  nothing  all  around  them  but  a 


41 

ruiiversal  diffusion  of  happiness.  What  is  it  to  us  tourists 
where  the  money  comes  from,  or  who  pays  for  all  this  1 
The  records  of  bankruptcy,  and  the  annals  of  the  police, 
are  not  the  polite  studies  of  us  men  of  pleasure,  nor 
have  we  any  concern  with  the  insides  of  houses,  or  the 
secrets  of  domestic  life,  so  long  as  the  streets  look  gay, 
and  every  body  in  them  seems  happy.  What  is  it 
to  us,  if  the  husband  or  the  father  of  the  gay  butterfly 
we  admire,  as  she  flutters  along,  clothed  in  the  spoils  of 
the  four  quarters  of  the  globe,  is  at  that  very  moment 
shivering  in  the  jaws  of  bankruptcy,  perspiring  out  his 
harassed  soul  in  inward  anxieties  to  weather  another  day 
of  miserable  splendours,  and  resorting  to  all  the  mean, 
degrading  expedients  of  the  times  to  deceive  the  world 
a  little  longer.  The  city  is  charming — the  theatres  and 
churches  full  of  splendours  ;  the  hotels  and  boarding 
houses  abound  in  all  that  can  pamper  the  appetite  ;  the 
habitations  all  splendidly  furnished  ;  all  that  we  see  is 
delightful ;  and  as  to  what  we  dont  see,  it  exists  not  to 
us.  We  travellers  belong  to  the  world,  and  the  world 
with  the  exception  of  its  cares  and  troubles,  belongs 
to  us. 

But  as  there  is  a  highly  meritorious  class  of  travel 
lers,  who  are  almost  continually  in  motion,  and  never 
stay  long  in  one  place,  if  they  can  help  it,  to  whom  it 
may  be  important  to  know  the  secrets  of  the  art  of 
living,  as  the  butterflies  do,  without  toiling  or  spinning, 
and  tasting  all  the  fruits  of  the  field,  without  having 
any  fields  themselves,  we  commend  them  to  the  records 
of  bankruptcy,  the  police,  and  the  quarter  sessions.  It 
is  there  they  will  become  adepts  in  this  most  important 
4* 


42 

of  all  branches  of  human  knowledge.  Any  fool  may 
live  by  working  and  saving — but  to  live,  and  live  well 
too,  by  idleness  and  unthrift — to  enjoy  the  luxuries  of 
taverns,  fine  clothes,  canvass  backs,  turtle  soup,  and 
Bingham  wine,  without  money,  and  without  credit,  is 
the  summum  bonum,  and  can  only  be  attained  by  long 
experience,  and  a  close  attendance  upon  the  police.  If 
High  Constable  Hays,  would  only  give  to  the  world, 
agreeably  to  the  fashion  of  the  times,  his  "  Reminis 
cences,"  what  a  treasure  they  would  be  to  the  class  of 
tourists  we  are  addressing !  There  they  might  behold 
the  grand  drama  of  life  behind  the  scenes,  and  under 
the  stage ;  there  they  might  learn  how  to  dress  ele 
gantly  at  the  expense  of  those  stupid  blockheads  who 
prefer  living  by  the  sweat  of  their  own  brows,  to  living 
by  the  sweat  of  those  of  other  people ;  there  they 
would  be  taught  by  a  thousand  examples,  not  how  to 
cut  their  coats  according  to  their  own  cloth,  but  that  of 
their  neighbours,  and  learn  how  easy  it  is  to  be  a  fine 
gentleman — that  is  to  say,  to  live  at  a  hotel,  get  credit 
with  a  tailor,  diddle  the  landlord  and  the  doctor,  pick  a 
few  pockets  and  a  few  locks,  by  way  of  furnishing  him 
self  with  a  watch  and  a  diamond  breast  pin.  There  too 
he  would  learn  how  a  little  staining  of  the  whiskers,  a 
new  wig,  and  an  alias,  enables  a  man  to  come  forth, 
from  the  state  prison,  "redeemed,  regenerated,  and 
disenthralled,  by  the  irresistible  genius  of  universal" 
philanthropy.  Seriously  therefore  do  we  hope  the  high 
constable  will  employ  his  otium  cum  dignitate,  in  a  work 
of  this  kind,  for  the  benefit  of  the  inexperienced  in  the 
art  of  raising  the  wind. 


43 

But  to  return  from  this  digression,  which  we  have  in 
dulged  in  from  motives  of  pure  philanthropy.  And 
we  shall  frequently  in  the  course  of  this  work,  encou 
rage  these  little  excursive  irregularities  of  the  pen,  be 
ing  firmly  of  opinion  that  no  person  ought  to  make  the 
grand  northern  tour  who  has  any  better  use  for  his  mo 
ney  than  buying,  or  for  his  time,  than  in  reading  this 
book. 

In  New  York  there  is  an  inexhaustible  round  of 
amusements,  for  every  hour  of  the  day  as  well  as  the 
night.  There  is  the  Academy  of  Arts,  where  the  ama 
teur  of  painting  may  see  pictures  which  cost  more  than 
Domenichino  received  for  his  Communion  of  St.  Je 
rome,  or  Raphael  for  his  master  piece;  and  which, 
strange  to  say,  are  not  worth  above  half  as  much.  No 
thing  is  more  easy  than  to  kill  an  hour  or  two  of  a  dull 
morning  at  the  academy,  from  whence  we  would  advise 
the  intelligent  tourist,  if  of  the  male  species,  to  adjourn 
to  the  far  famed  gastronomium,  vernacular,  oyster 
stand  of  Jerry  Duncan,  who  certainly  opens  an  oyster 
with  more  grace  and  tournure  than  any  man  living.  But 
alas !  how  few — how  very  few  in  this  degenerate  age 
understand  the  glorious  mysteries  of  eating.  Some  fry 
their  oysters  in  batter — infamous  custom !  Some  so 
phisticate  them  with  pepper  and  salt — that  ought  to  be 
a  state  prison  offence !  .Some  with  vinegar  and  butter — 
away  with  them  to  the  tread  mill !  Others  stew,  broil, 
roast,  or  make  them  into  villanous  pies — hard  labour 
for  life,  or  solitary  imprisonment,  ought  to  be  the  lot  of 
these !  And  others,  O  murder  most  foul  !  cut  them  in 
two  before  they  eat  them  ;  a  practice  held  in  utter  ab- 


44 

horrence  by  all  persons  of  common  humanity — this 
ought  to  be  death  by  the  law.  As  our  reader  loves  oy 
sters — as  he  aspires  to  become  an  adept  in  the  great 
science — as  he  hopes  to  be  saved — let  him  never  cut 
his  oyster  in  two  pieces,  or  eat  it  otherwise  than  raw. 
If  his  mouth  is  not  large  enough  to  swallow  it  whole, 
let  him  leave  it  with  a  sigh  to  the  lips  of  some  more 
fortunate  being,  to  whom  nature  has  been  more  boun 
tiful.  A  reasonable  sojourn  at  Jerry's,  will  bring  round 
the  hour  to  one  o'clock,  when  it  is  proper  to  take  the 
field  in  Broadway,  or  at  least  to  go  home  and  prepare 
for  that  solemn  occasion.  From  this  till  dinner,  the  in 
telligent  tourist  can  employ  his  time  to  great  advantage, 
in  walking  back  and  forth  from  the  Battery  to  the  south 
corner  of  Chamber  Street.  Beyond  this  he  must  riot 
stir  a  step,  as  all  besides  is  vulgar,  terra  incognita  to  the 
fashionable  world.  People  will  think  you  are  going  to 
Cheapside,  or  Bond  Street,  or  Hudson  Square,  or  some 
other  haberdashery  place,  to  buy  bargains,  if  you  are 
found  beyond  the  north  corner  of  the  Park.  At  three, 
return  to  your  lodgings  to  dress  for  dinner : — these  must 
positively  be  in  Broadway,  in  one  of  those  majestic  old 
houses,  which  the  piety  of  young  heirs  consecrates  to 
the  god  of  eating,  in  honour  of  their  fathers.  We  are 
not  ignorant  that  some  ill  natured  people  affirm  this  is 
not  their  motive — but  that  they  are  actuated  by  the  filthy 
lucre  of  gain,  in  thus  turning  their  father's  home  into  a 
den  of  tourists ;  but  we  ourselves  are  fully  convinced 
they  are  impelled  by  sheer  public  spirit,  warmed  by  the 
irresistible  effervescence  of  universal  philanthropy,  the 
warmth  of  which  pervades  this  whole  city,  insomuch 


45 

that  there  is  scarcely  a  place  extant  where  people  are 
more  cordially  taken  in.  Let  no  one  blame  these  pious 
young  heirs,  since  in  the  east,  nobody  but  kings  and 
saints  built  caravanseraes  for  the  accommodation  of 
travellers  ;  and  in  the  west,  none  but  people  of  a  pious 
and  royal  spirit  erect  taverns.  The  only  difference  is, 
and  it  is  not  very  material,  the  caravanseraes  charge 
nothing  for  lodging  travellers,  and  the  taverns  make 
them  pay  double. 

And  now  comes  the  hour — the  most  important  hour, 
between  the  cradle  and  the  grave — THE  DINNER  HOUR  ! 
On  this  head  it  is  necessary  to  be  particular.  Look  out 
for  the  sheep's  head,  the  venison,  the  canvass  backs. 
Dont  let  your  eyes  any  more  than  your  mouth  be  idle  a 
moment ;  but  be  careful  not  to  waste  your  energies  on 
common-place  dishes.  First  eat  your  soup  as  quick  as 
possible  without  burning  your  mouth.  Then  your  fish — 
then  your  venison — then  your  miscellaneous  delights 
— and  conclude  with  game.  At  the  climax  comes 
the  immortal  canvass  back,  whose  peculiar  location  to 
the  south,*  in  our  opinion  gives  a  decided  superiority  to 
that  favoured  portion  of  the  universe  ;  and  entitles  it  to 
furnish  the  less  favoured  parts  of  the  United  States  with 
presidents,  so  long  as  it  furnishes  us  with  canvass  backs. 
From  our  souls,  which  according  to  some  good  authori 
ties  are  seated  in  the  palate — from  our  souls  we  pity  the 
wretched  inhabitants  of  the  old  world — wretched  in  the 
absence  of  any  tolerable  oysters,  and  wretched  beyond 

*  We  have  heard  that  canvass  backs  have  been  seen  in  Rhode 
Island.  If  they  can  prove  this,  we  think  they  ought  to  furnish  the 
next  president. 


46 

all  wretchedness  in  the  utter  destitution  of  canvass 
backs,  and  Newtown  pippins. 

Respecting  wines  there  is  some  diversity  of  opinion. 
Some  prefer  French  wines,  such  as  Burgundy,  Chateau, 
Margaux,  La  Fitte,  Latour,  Sauterne,  and  Sillery. 
Others  affect  the  purple  and  amber  juices  of  the  Rhine, 
affirming  that  in  HOC  signo  vinces ;  and  that  the  real 
Johannisberg  is  inimitable.  Others  again  prefer  the 
more  substantial  product  of  Spain,  Portugal,  and  the 
veritable  Hesperides — the  group  of  the  Madeiras — 
maintaining  that  the  existence  of  the  people  of  this 
world,  before  the  discovery  of  these  last,  is  one  of  those 
miracles  not  to  be  accounted  for,  like  that  of  a  toad  in 
a  block  of  marble.  As  there  is  no  such  thing  as  ac 
counting  for  tastes,  or  reconciling  them,  we  would  pro 
pose  an  amicable  medium,  that  of  sipping  a  little  of  each, 
in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  thus  reconciling  the  con 
flicting  claims  of  these  most  exquisite  competitors.  A 
bottle  of  each  would  be  rather  too  much  for  the  head  or 
pocket  of  a  single  amateur,  wherefore  we  would  recom 
mend  some  half  a  dozen  to  club  their  wines,  by  which 
means  this  objection  would  be  obviated.  By  the  time 
these  ceremonies  are  got  through,  the  company  will  be 
in  a  condition  to  adjourn  to  the  theatres,  with  a  proper 
zest  for  the  Flying  Dutchman,  Peter  Wilkins,  and  "  I've 
been  roaming."  After  sitting  or  sleeping  out  these  ele 
gant  spectacles,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  our  traveller 
will  be  hungry,  and  being  hungry,  it  is  reasonable  that 
he  should  eat.  Wherefore  it  is  our  serious  advice  that 
he  adjourn  forthwith  to  the  Goose  and  Gridiron,  where 
after  partaking  of  a  good  supper,  he  may  go  any  wjiere 


47 

he  pleases,  except  home,  it  being  proper  that  a  rational 
and  enlightened  traveller  should  make  the  most  of  his 
time. 

To  the  young  female  tourist,  whose  time  and  papa's 
money  are  an  incumbrance,  New-York  affords  inex 
haustible  resources.  The  mere  amusement  of  dressing 
for  breakfast,  for  Broadway,  and  for  dinner,  and  undress 
ing  for  evening  parties,  is  a  never  failing  refuge  from 
ennui.  In  the  intervals  between  dressing,  shopping, 
visiting  and  receiving  visits,  it  is  advisable  for  her,  if 
she  is  fond  of  retirement  and  literary  pursuits,  to  seat 
herself  at  one  of  the  front  windows,  on  the  ground  floor 
of  the  hotel,  with  a  Waverley  or  a  Cooper,  where  she 
ean  do  as  we  have  seen  people  do  in  divers  old  fashioned 
pictures,  hold  her  book  open,  and  at  the  same  time  com 
placently  contemplate  the  spectators.  The  following 
list  of  "  Resources,"  is  confidently  recommended  to 
our  female  travelling  readers. 

Lying  in  bed  till  ten. 

Dressing  for  breakfast.  N.  B.  If  there  is  nobody  to 
the  hotel  worth  dressing  for,  any  thing  will  do — or  bet 
ter  take  breakfast  in  bed,  and  another  nap. 

Breakfast  till  eleven.  N.  B.  It  is  not  advisable  to 
eat  canvass  backs,  oysters,  or  lobsters  at  breakfast.  A 
little  smoked  salmon,  a  little  frizzled  beef,  or  a  little  bit 
of  chicken  about  as  big  as  a  bee's  wing,  is  all  that  can 
safely  be  indulged.  N.  B.  Beef  steaks  and  mutton 
chops  are  wholly  inadmissible  except  for  married  ladies. 

Twelve  to  one.  Dress  for  shopping.  N.  B.  The 
female  tourist  must  put  on  her  best,  it  being  the  fashion 
in  New  York,  for  ladies  and  their  maids  to  dress  for 
walking  as  if  they  were  going  to  church  or  a  ball.  Care 


48 

must  be  taken  to  guard  against  damp  pavements,  by 
putting  on  prunelle  shoes.  If  the  weather  is  dry,  white 
satin  is  preferable. 

One  till  three.  Sauntering  up  and  down  Broadway, 
and  diversifying  the  pleasure  by  a  little  miscellaneous 
shopping — looking  in  at  the  milliners,  the  jewellers,  &c. 
N.  B.  No  lady  should  hesitate  to  buy  any  thing  because 
she  dont  want  it,  since  this  dealing  in  superfluities  is 
the  very  essence  of  every  thing  genteel.  Above  all, 
never  return  home  but  with  an  empty  purse. 

At  three,  the  brokers,  who  set  the  fashion  in  New 
York,  go  home  to  their  canvass  backs,  and  Bingham 
wine,  and  it  becomes  vulgar  to  be  seen  in  Broadway. 

Dinner  at  four,  the  earliest  hour  permitted  among 
people  of  pretensions.  Owing  to  the  barbarous  prac 
tice  of  banishing  ladies  from  all  participation  in  the 
learned  discussions  of  wines,  the  period  between  dinner, 
and  dressing  for  the  evening  party,  is  the  most  trying 
portion  of  female  existence.  If  they  walk  in  Broadway, 
they  will  see  nobody  worth  seeing  ;  of  course,  there  is 
no  use  in  walking.  A  nap,  or  a  Waverley,  or  perhaps 
both,  is  the  only  resource. 

It  will  be  expedient  to  wake  up  at  eight,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  dressing  for  a  party,  else  there  is  no  earthly  rea 
son  why  you  may  not  sleep  till  half  past  ten  or  eleven, 
when  it  is  time  to  think  of  going,  or  you  may  possibly 
miss  some  of  the  refreshments.  N.  B.  A  lady  may  eat 
as  much  as  she  pleases  at  a  ball,  or  a  conversatione. 

Should  there  be  no  party  for  the  evening,  ^he  theatres 
are  a  never  failing  resource  of  intellectual  enjoyment. 
The  sublime  actions  of  the  Flying  Dutchman,  and 
Peter  Wilkins,  and  the  sublime  displays  in  "  I've  been 


49 

roaming,"  cannot  fail  to  enlighten  the  understanding, 
refine  the  taste,  and  improve  the  morals  of  all  the  rising 
generation,  in  an  equal  if  not  greater  degree,  than 
bridewell  or  the  penitentiary.  N.  B.  The  bashful 
ladies  generally  shut  both  their  eyes,  at  "  Pve  been 
roaming."  Those  who  retain  a  fragment  of  the  faculty 
of  blushing,  only  open  one  eye  ;  but  such  as  are  afraid 
of  nothing,  use  a  quizzing  glass  that  nothing  may  escape 
them. 

But  after  all  there  is  nobody  that  can  do  full  justice  to 
the  ever  changing  shadows  and  lights  of  fashionable 
dress,  manners  and  amusements,  but  a  young  female, 
just  come  out  with  all  her  soaring  anticipations  unclipt 
by  experience,  and  all  her  capacities  of  enjoyment,  fresh 
and  unsoiled.  We  will  therefore  take  occasion  to  insert 
in  this  place  two  letters,  written  by  a  young  lady  of  the 
party,  from  whose  correspondence,  we  have  already 
made  such  liberal  selections. 

LUCIA  CCLPEPER  TO  MARIA  MEYNELL. 

New  York, . 

MY  DEAR  MARIA, — I  could  live  here  forever.  We 
have  a  charming  suit  of  rooms  fronting  on  Broadway, 
that  would  be  a  perfect  Paradise,  were  it  not  for  the 
noise  which  prevents  one's  hearing  oneself  speak,  and 
the  dust  which  prevents  one's  seeing.  But  still  it  is 
delightful  to  sit  at  the  window  with  a  Waverley,  and  see 
the  moving  world  forever  passing  to  and  fro,  with  un 
ceasing  footsteps.  Every  body  appears  to  be  in  motion,, 
and  every  thing  else.  The  carriages  rattle  through  the 
streets  ;  the  carts  dance  as  if  they  were  running  races 
5 


50 

with  them  ;  the  ladies  trip  along  in  all  the  colours  of  the 
rainbow ;  and  the  gentlemen  look  as  though  they  actually 
had  something  to  do.  They  all  walk  as  if  they  were  in 
a  hurry,  and  on  my  remarking  this  to  my  uncle,  he  re 
plied  in  his  usual  sarcastic  manner,  "  Yes,  they  all  seem 
as  if  they  were  running  away  from  an  indictment."  I 
did  not  comprehend  what  he  meant.  Every  thing  is  so 
different  that  it  does  not  seem  to  me  possible  that  I 
should  be  in  the  same  world,  or  that  I  am  the  same  per 
son  I  was  a  month  ago. 

Sitting  at  my  window  on  the  high  hills  of  Santee,  I  saw 
nothing  but  the  repose,  the  stillness,  and  the  majesty  of 
nature.  At  a  distance,  and  all  around,  the  world  was 
nothing  but  a  waving  outline  of  blue  mountains  that 
Seemed  almost  incorporated  with  the  skies.  Nothing 
moved  around  me  but  the  mists  of  morning,  rising  at  the 
beck  of  the  sun;  the  passing  clouds;  the  waving  foliage 
of  the  trees  ;  the  little  river  winding  through  the  valley  ; 
and  the  sun  riding  athwart  the  heavens.  The  silence  was 
only  interrupted  at  intervals  by  the  voice  or  the  whistle  of 
the  blacks,  about  the  house  or  in  the  fields  ;  the  lowing 
of  the  cattle  wandering  in  the  recesses  of  the  hills  ;  the 
echo  of  the  hunter's  gun,  or  the  crash  of  the  falling  tree ; 
the  soft  murmurings  of  the  river  under  the  window;  and 
sometimes  the  roaring  of  the  whirlwind  through  the 
forest,  or  the  blow  of  the  thunder  upon  the  distant 
rocks.  My  uncle  was  master  of  all  that  could  be  seen 
without — I  mistress  of  all  within.  There  all  was  na 
ture — here  all  is  art.  Every  thing  is  made  with  hands, 
except  the  living  things  ;  and  of  these  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  may  fairly  be  set  down  jrs  the  work 


51 

milliners  and  tailors.  Even  the  horses  are  sophisti-* 
cated,  as  my  uncle  will  have  it ;  and  instead  of  long, 
flowing  tails  and  manes,  amble  about  with  ears,  tail  and 
mane  cropt,  as  if  they  had  been  under  the  hands  of  the 
barber. 

But  when  I  look  in  the  glass,  it  seems  that  not  all  the 
changes  of  animate  and  inanimate  nature,  equal  those  I 
exhibit  in  my  own  person.  The  morning  after  I  can>3 
here,  I  received  a  circular  ;  dont  let  your  eyes  start  out 
of  your  head,  Maria — yes,  a  circular  ;  and  from  whom 
do  you  think  ?  Why,  a  milliner !  Only  think  what  a 
person  of  consequence  I  must  be  all  at  once.  It  in 
formed  me  in  the  politest  terms,  that  Madame 

had  just  received  an  assortment  of  the  latest  Paris 
fashions,  which  would  be  opened  for  inspection  the  next 
day.  I  was  determined  to  have  the  first  choice  of  a 
hat ;  so  I  got  up  early  and  proceeded  with  Henney  to 
the  milliner's  rooms,  which,  to  my  great  surprise,  I  found 
full  of  fine  ladies,  who  I  afterwards  understood  had  not 
been  up  so  early  since  the  last  fashionable  exhibition  of 
Paris  finery.  You  never  saw  such  a  crowd ;  such 
tumbling  of  silks  and  gauzes ;  such  perplexity  of 
choice ;  such  profound  doubts ;  such  hesitating  deci 
sion  ;  such  asking  of  every  body's  opinions,  and  follow 
ing  none  ;  and  such  lingering,  endless  examinations-. 
There  was  one  lady  that  tried  on  every  hat  in  the  place, 
and  went  away  at  last  in  despair.  I  dont  wonder,  for  it 
was  the  choice  of  Hercules,  not  between  two,  but  be 
tween  hundreds.  For  my  part,  I  did  nothing  but  wonder. 
You  never  saw  such  curiosities  as  these  Paris  hats.  It 
is  quite  impossible  to  describe  them ;  I  can  only  give  you 


52 

an  idea  of  the  size,  by  saying  that  mine,  which  is  very 
moderate,  measures  three  feet  across,  and  has  a  suit  of 
embellishments,  bows,  puffs,  points,  feathers,  flowers, 
and  wheat  sheaves,  that  make  it  look  almost  twice  as 
large.  The  rule  is  here,  for  the  smallest  ladies  to  wear 
the  largest  hats,  so  that  my  uncle  insists  upon  it  they 
look  like  toad  stools,  with  a  vast  head  and  a  little  stem. 
Mine  was  the  cheapest  thing  ever  offered  for  sale  in 
New  York,  as  madame  assured  me  ;  it  only  cost  twenty- 
eight  dollars.  It  would  not  go  into  the  bandbox,  so 
Henney  paraded  it  in  her  hand.  A  man  on  horseback 
met  her  just  as  she  was  turning  a  corner,  and  the  horse 
was  so  frightened,  that  he  reared  backwards  and  came 
very  near  throwing  his  rider.  One  of  our  horses  is 
lame,  and  my  uncle  has  advertised  for  one  that  can 
stand  the  encounter  of  a  full  dressed  fine  lady.  If  he 
can  do  that,  the  old  gentleman  says  he  can  stand  any 
thing. 

The  next  thing  I  did,  was  to  bespeak  a  couple  of 
walking  dresses — one  of  baptiste,  the  other  of  silk 
plaid.  They  cost  me  only  fifty-six  dollars,  which  was 
quite  moderate,  seeing  they  had,  or  were  said  to  have  in 
the  bill,  ninety  odd  yards  of  one  thing  or  another  in  them, 
I  believe  I  must  drop  my  money  in  the  street,  for  I  am 
almost  ashamed  to  apply  to  my  uncle  so  often.  He 
takes  it  all  good  humouredly,  for  he  is  a  generous  old 
soul — only  he  has  his  revenge  by  laughing  at  me,  and 
comparing  me  to  all  sorts  of  queer  things.  I  was  sur 
prised  when  I  first  went  out  to  see  what  beautiful  curl 
ing  hair  they  all  had — ladies,  ladies'  maids,  and  little 
babies,  all  had  the  most  charming  profusion  you  ever 


53 

haw.  This  struck  me  very  much,  as  you  know  very 
few  have  curling  hair  to  the  south  except  the  negroes. 
And  such  curls,  too !  dear  me,  Maria,  it  would  make 
your  hair  stand  on  end  to  see  them.  They  look  more 
like  sausages  than  any  thing  else — and  I  thought  to  be 
sure  they  must  be  starched.  On  expressing  my  admi 
ration  to  Stephen,  he  laughed  outrageously,  and  assured 
me  most  solemnly,  that  every  one  of  these  sausages 
was  purchased — not  at  the  sausage  makers,  but  at  the 
curl  shops,  where  you  could  buy  them  either  of  horse 
hair,  mohair,  or  human  hair,  and  of  any  size  and  colour 
you  pleased.  He  assured  me  it  was  impossible  to  live 
without  them  five  minutes  in  New  York,  and  advised 
me  to  procure  a  set  without  delay.  You'd  laugh  to  see 
mine.  They  are  as  stiff  as  the  powder  and  pomatum 
of  Doctor  Brady's  wig  could  make  them  :  they  are  hol 
low  in  the  middle,  which  my  uncle  assures  me  is  very 
convenient,  now  that  the  ladies  wear  no  pockets.  One 
can  put  a  variety  of  small  matters  in  them,  as  we  did  in 
our  muffs  formerly.  Do  you  know  they  bake  them  in 
the  oven  to  make  them  stiff.  My  uncle  gives  another 
reason  for  it,  which  I  wont  tell  you. 

My  bonnet  and  curls  seem  to  have  almost  conquered 
Stephen,  who  declares  he  has  seen  nothing  equal  to  my 
"  costume,"  as  he  calls  it,  since  he  left  Paris.  He  has 
actually  offered  to  walk  with  me  in  Broadway,, and  did 
us  the  honour  to  go  with  us  to  the  theatre,  one  stormy 

night.  To  be  sure,  Madame danced.  You  never  saw 

such  droll  capers,  Maria :  I  declare  I  hardly  knew  which 
way  to  look.     But  the  ladies  all  applauded  ;  so  I  sup 
pose  I  dont  know  what  is  proper,  not  having  seen  much 
5* 


54 

of  the  world.  Stephen  was  in  ecstacies,  and  bravoed 
and  encored,  till  my  uncle  bade  him  be  quiet,  and  not 
make  a  jackanapes  of  himself.  I  was  delighted  with  the 
theatre ;  it  is  lighted  with  gas ;  and  the  play  was  one  of  the 
finest  shows  I  ever  beheld  ; — processions — thunder  and 
lightning,  and  dancing — fighting — rich  dresses — a  great 
deal  of  fiddling,  and  very  little  poetry,  wit,  or  sense. 
I  was  a  little  disappointed  at  this — but  Stephen  says, 
nothing  is  considered  so  vulgar  as  a  sensible,  well  writ 
ten  play.  Music  and  dancing  are  all  in  all — and  as  it. 
is  much  easier  to  cut  capers,  and  produce  sounds  with 
out  sense  than  with  it,  this  is  an  excellent  taste — for  it 
saves  a  great  deal  of  useless  labour  in  writing  plays,  as 
well  as  acting  them  properly.  I  sometimes  think  Ste 
phen's  notions  are  a  little  strange ;  and  my  heart,  as 
well  as  my  understanding,  revolts  at  some  of  his  deci 
sions.  But  he  has  been  abroad,  and  ought  to  know. 
Sometimes  I  think  I  should  like  to  know  Graves'  opi 
nion  :  but  he  hardly  ever  speaks  unless  spoken  to  ;  and 
ever  since  I  got  such  a  great  bonnet,  and  such  great 
curls,  he  scarcely  seems  to  know  me.  As  for  my  un* 
cle,  he  dont  make  any  secret  of  his  opinions.  But  then 
he  is  out  of  fashion ;  and  as  I  dont  find  any  body  agree 
with  him,  I  think  he  must  be  wrong. 

Next  week,  we  think  of  setting  out  for  the  springs. 
My  uncle  has  foresworn  the  steam  boats,  ever  since  our 
voyage  from  Charleston.  So  we  are  to  go  by  land  up 
the  right  bank  of  the  Hudson,  and  return  on  the  other 
side,  unless  we  should  visit  Boston,  as  my  uncle  some 
times  threatens.  Good  bye,  my  dear  Maria ;  I  long  to 
see  you  :-~dont  you  long  to  see  me,  in  my  incomprehen- 


55 

sible,  indescribable  hat,  and  my  baked  curls  1  Not  to  omit 
my  travelling  chain,  which  is  a  gold  cable  of  awful  di 
mensions  ;  without  which  no  lady  of  any  pretensions 
can  visit  the  springs.  Alas  !  poor  woman  !  born  to  be 
the  slave  of  a  hundred  task  masters ; — first,  of  the 
boarding  school,  where  she  is  put  to  the  torture  of  the 
dancing  master  and  the  school  mistress  ;  next,  to  fash 
ion,  where  she  is  obliged  to  appear  a  fool,  rather  than 
be  singular ;  and  worst  of  all,  to  her  husband,  the  very 
Nero  of  tyrants.  Pray  sometimes  stop  in,  and  see  how 
my  old  nurse  Hannah  gets  on.  Adieu. 

P.  S.  I  wish  you  could  only  hear  that  good  na- 
tured,  pragmatical  old  soul,  my  kind,  generous  uncle, 
rail  at  almost  every  thing  he*  hears  and  sees.  He  has 
called  himself  an  old  fool  fifty  times  a  day,  and  says 
that  old  people  are  like  old  trunks,  which  will  do  very 
well  while  they  are  let  alone  in  a  corner,  but  never  fail 
to  tumble  to  pieces  if  you  move  them.  He  pronounced 
the  steam  boat  a  composition  of  horrors,  such  as  mo 
dern  ingenuity,  stimulated  by  paper  money,  stock  com 
panies,  and  I  know  not  what,  could  alone  produce  ;  and 
congratulates  himself  continually  upon  living  in  a  re 
mote  part  of  the  country,  where  there  are  neither  banks 
nor  incorporations,  and  where,  as  he  says,  indulgent 
nature,  by  means  of  high  mountains  and  other  benevo 
lent  precautions,  has  made  it  actually  impossible  to  in 
trude  either  a  canal  or  a  rail  road.  Every  time  I  come 
to  him  for  money,  which  indeed  is  pretty  often,  for  I 
have  found  out  a  hundred  new  wants  since  I  came  here, 
he  affects  to  scold  me,  and  declares  that  unless  the  price 
of  cotton  and  rice  rises,  he  shall  be  a  pauper  before  the 


56 

end  of  our  journey.  But  what  annoys  him  most  of  alt, 
and  indeed  appears  strange  to  me,  is  to  see  white  men 
performing  the  offices  of  negroes  to  the  south — waiting 
at  table,  cleaning  boots,  brushing  clothes,  driving  car 
riages,  and  standing  up  behind  them.  He  says  this  is 
degrading  the  race  of  white  men  in  the  scale  of  nature, 
and  has  had  several  hot  discussions  with  an  old  quaker, 
with  whom  he  some  where  scraped  acquaintance.  Our 
black  man  Juba,  or  gentleman  of  colour  as  they  call 
them  here,  is  grown  so  vain  at  being  sometimes  waited 
on  by  white  men,  that  he  is  good  for  nothing  but  to  pa 
rade  up  and  down  Broadway.  Henney  says  he  is  keep 
ing  a  journal,  and  talks  of  making  up  to  the  old  quaker's 
daughter  ;  I  suppose  on  the  strength  of  the  old  gentle 
man's  arguments  about  equality.  In  short,  my  good 
uncle  calls  me  a  baggage  and  Stephen  a  puppy,  twenty 
times  a  day.  L.  C. 

LUCIA  CtTLPEPER  TO  MARIA  MEYNELL. 

New  York, . 

MY  DEAR  MARIA, — How  I  wish  you  were  here  to 
help  me  enjoy  all  the  fine  things  I  see  from  morning  till 
night.  You  know  I  have  no  friends  in  this  place,  and 
among  all  our  party  I  can  find  no  confidante  but  Hen 
ney,  who  wonders  ten  times  more  than  I  do.  My  good 
uncle,  though  a  kind,  generous,  old  soul,  you  know  has 
a  habit  of  finding  fault  with  every  thing,  and  always  ex 
alting  the  past  at  the  expense  of  the  present,  which  to 
young  people,  to  whom  the  present  time  is  every  thing, 
is  quite  odd.  Graves  is  as  grave  as  his  name,  and  is 


57 

ail  the  time  taken  up  with  state  prisons,  alms  houses, 
houses  of  refuge,  and  all  sorts  of  institutions  for  ma 
king  people  wiser  and  better ;  or  as  my  uncle  will  have 
it,  idle  and  profligate.  As  for  Stephen,  he  wont  let  me 
admire  any  thing  in  peace.  The  moment  I  do  so,  he 
comes  upon  me  with  a  comparison  with  something  in 
Paris,  Rome  or  London,  which  goes  near  to  accuse  me 
of  a  total  want  of  taste.  If  you  believe  him,  there  is 
nothing  worth  seeing  here,  but  what  comes  from  abroad. 
I  am  sure  he'll  never  like  me  well  enough  to  fulfil  my 
uncle's  wishes,  and  that  is  my  great  comfort.  For 
alas  !  Maria,  I  fear  he  has  no  heart ;  and  judging  from 
what  comes  out  of  it,  but  little  head.  I  dont  want  a 
man  to  be  always  crying  or  talking  sentiment,  or  forever 
acting  the  sage ;  but  a  heartless  fool  is  the  bane  of 
womankind.  You  know  Stephen's  father  saved  my 
uncle's  life  at  the  battle  of  the  Eutaw  Springs,  and  that 
my  uncle  has  long  made  up  his  mind  to  make  him  my 
lord  and  master,  and  leave  us  his  whole  fortune,  with 
the  exception  of  a  legacy  to  poor  Graves.  The  older 
I  grow,  the  more  I  dislike  this  plan.  But  I  would  not 
thwart  my  dear,  kind,  generous  uncle — father  ; — if  any 
thing  less  than  my  future  happiness  is  at  stake.  He 
calls  Stephen,  puppy,  jackanapes  and  dandy,  ten  times 
a  day.  But  I  can  see  his  heart  is  still  set  upon  the  match. 
So  true  is  it,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  for  old  people 
to  give  up  a  long  cherished  and  favourite  plan.  But  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  in  the  solitude  of  the  mountains 
to  meet  what  may  come — come  what  will. 

My  head  is  now  full  of  finery,  and  all  my  senses  in  a 
whirl.     I  wish  you  could  see  me.     My  hat  is  so  large 


58 

that  there  is  no  bandbox  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  big 
enough  to  accommodate  it ;  and  yet  you  will  be  sur 
prised  to  hear  that  it  is  neither  fit  for  summer  or  winter, 
rain  or  sunshine.  It  will  neither  keep  off  one  or  the 
other,  and  so  plagues  me  when  I  go  into  the  street,  that 
I  hardly  know  which  way  to  turn  myself.  Every  puff 
of  wind  nearly  oversets  me.  There  are  forty-two  yards 
of  trimmings,  and  sixty  feathers  to  it.  My  dress  is  a 
full  match  for  my  hat.  It  took  twenty  three  yards  of 
silk,  five  yards  of  satin,  besides,  "  bobbin,  ben  bob 
bin,  and  ben  bobbinet," — I  dont  know  what  else  to  call 
it — beyond  all  counting.  You  must  think  I  have  grown 
very  much.  I  am  so  beflounced,  that  my  uncle  laughs  at 
me  whenever  I  come  where  he  is,  and  declares,  that  a  fine 
lady,  costs  more  to  fit  her  out  now  a  days,  than  a  ship 
of  the  line.  What  between  hat  and  flounces,  &c.  a  lady 
has  a  time  of  it  when  the  wind  blows,  and  the  dust  is 
flying  in  clouds,  as  it  does  in  Broadway  all  day  long. 
I  encountered  a  puff,  at  the  corner  of  one  of  the  streets, 
and  there  I  stood,  holding  my  hat  with  one  hand,  and 
my  cardinal  cloak,  which  has  fifty-six  yards  of  various 
commodities  in  it,  with  the  other.  I  thought  I  should 
have  gone  up  like  a  balloon  ;  and  stood  stark  still  un 
til  I  came  near  being  run  over  by  a  great  hog,  which 
was  scampering  away  from  some  mischievous  boys. 
At  last  a  sailor  took  compassion  on  me,  and  set  me 
down  at  the  door  of  a  store.  As  he  went  away,  I  heard 
him  say  to  his  companion  :  "  D — n  my  eyes,  Bill, 
what  a  press  of  canvass  the  girls  carry  now  a  days." 

O  its  delightful  to  travel,  Maria  !     We  had  such  a 
delightful  sail  in  the  steam  boat,  though  we  were  afi 


59 

sick ;  and  such  a  delightful  party,  if  they  only  had  been 
well.  Only  think  of  sailing  without  sails,  and  not 
caring  which  way  the  wind  blows  ;  and  going  eight 
miles  an  hour  let  what  would  happen.  It  was  quite 
charming  ;  but  for  all  this  I  was  glad  when  it  was  over, 
and  we  came  into  still  water.  Coming  into  the  Nar 
rows,  as  they  are  called,  was  like  entering  a  Paradise. 
On  one  side  is  Long  Island,  with  its  low  shores,  stud 
ded  with  pretty  houses,  and  foliage  of  various  kinds, 
mixed  up  with  the  dark  cedars.  On  the  other,  Staten 
Island,  with  its  high  bluff,  crowned  by  the  telegraph 
and  signal  poles ;  and  beyond,  the  great  fort  that  put 
me  in  mind  of  the  old  castles  which  Stephen  talks 
about.  We  kept  close  to  the  Long  Island  shore,  along 
which  we  glided,  before  wind  and  tide  with  the  swiftness 
of  wings.  Every  moment  some  new  beauty  opened 
to  our  view.  The  little  islands  of  the  bay  crowned 
with  castles  ;  the  river  beyond  terminated  by  the  lofty 
ledge  of  perpendicular  rocks,  called  the  palisades  ; 
and  lastly,  the  queen  of  the  west,  the  beautifuj  city,  with 
its  Battery  and  hundred  spires,  all  coming  one  after  the 
other  in  succession,  and  at  last  all  combined  in  one 
beautiful  whole,  threw  me  almost  into  raptures,  and  en 
tirely  cured  my  sea  sickness.  Add  to  this,  the  ships, 
vessels  and  boats,  of  all  sizes,  from  the  seventy-four  to 
the  little  thing  darting  about,  like  a  feather,  with  a  single 
person  in  it ;  and  the  grand  .opening  of  the  East  River, 
with  Brooklyn  and  the  charming  scenery  beyond,  and 
you  can  form  some  little  idea  of  my  surprise  and  delight. 
Signior  Maccaroni,  as  my  uncle  calls  him,  looked  at  it 
with  perfect  nonchalance.  The  bay  was  nothing  to 


60 

the  bay  of  Naples ;  and  the  castle,  less  than  nothing 
compared  with  Castel  Nuovo.  Thank  heaven,  I  had  not 
been  abroad  to  spoil  my  relish.  Even  my  uncle  enjoy 
ed  it,  and  spoke  more  kindly  to  me  than  during  the 
whole  passage.  He  was  very  sick,  and  called  himself 
an  old  fool  fifty  times  a  day.  I  believe  half  the  time  he 
meant  "  young  fool,"  that  is  me,  for  persuading  him  to 
the  voyage.  Graves'  eyes  sparkled,  but  as  usual  he 
said  nothing.  He  only  gave  me  a  look,  which  said  as 
plainly  as  a  thousand  words,  "  how  beautiful !"  but 
whether  he  meant  me  or  dame  nature,  is  more  than  I 
can  tell. 

The  moment  we  touched  the  wharf,  there  was  an 
irruption  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  as  my  uncle  called 
the  hackney  coachmen,  and  the  porters,  who  risked  their 
necks  in  jumping  aboard.  "  Carriage,  sir," — "  Baggage, 
sir,"— "  City  Hotel  sir,"— "  Mansion  House,"—"  Mrs. 
Mann's," — were  reiterated  a  thousand  times;  and  I 
thought  half  a  dozen  of  them  would  have  fought  for  our 
trunks,  they  disputed  and  swore  so  terribly.  Stephen 
declared  it  was  worse  than  London  ;  and  Graves  said 
it  put  him  in  mind  of  the  contest  between  the  Greeks 
and  Trojans  for  the  body  of  poor  Patroclus.  My  uncle 
called  them  hard  names,  and  flourished  his  stick,  but  it 
would  not  do.  When  we  got  to  the  hotel  I  thought  we 
had  mistaken  some  palace  for  a  public  house.  Such 
mirrors — such  curtains — such  carpets — such  sophas — 
such  chairs !  I  was  almost  afraid  to  sit  down  upon 
them.  Even  Stephen  looked  his  approbation,  and  re 
peated  over  and  over  again  :  "  Upon  my  soul,  clever — 
quite  clever — very  clever  indeed,  upon  my  soul."  My 


61 

uncle  says,  all  this  finery  comes  out  of  the  cotton  plan 
tations  and  rice  swamps  ;  and  that  the  negroes  of  the 
south,  work  like  horses,  that  their  masters  may  spend 
their  money  like  asses  in  the  north. 

Poor  Henney  does  nothing  but  stand  stock  still  with 
her  mouth  and  eyes  wide  open,  and  is  of  no  more  use 
to  me  than  a  statue.  She  is  in  every  body's  way — and 
in  her  own  way  too  I  believe.  I  took  her  with  me  the 
other  day  to  a  milliner's,  to  bring  home  some  of  my 
finery.  She  stopt  at  every  window,  with  such  evident 
tokens  of  delight,  that  she  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
boys,  and  came  very  near  being  mobbed.  I  missed 
her,  and  was  obliged  to  turn  back — where  I  found  her 
in  ecstacies  with  a  picture  of  Madame  Hutin  dancing 
before  a  droll  figure,  hi  a  fur  cap  and  spectacles.  Juba 
is  keeping  a  journal  I  believe,  for  you  know  that  my  un 
cle,  while  he  abuses  the  practice  with  his  tongue,  as 
sents  to  it  in  his  heart,  and  humours  his  slaves  more 
perhaps  than  a  professed  philanthropist  would  do  in  his 
situation.  I  should  like  to  see  Juba's  lucubrations. 

I  begin  to  be  weary — so  good  night,  my  dear  Maria. 
I  will  write  again  soon.  Your  LUCIA. 

P.  S.  What  do  you  think,  Maria  ? — whisper  it  not 
to  the  telltale  echoes  of  the  high  hills  of  Santee — they 
say  bishops  and  pads  are  coming  into  fashion.  I  have 
'Seen  several  ladies  that  looked  very  suspicious. 

Besides  eating,  and  the  various  other  resources  for 
passing  the  time  in  New  York,  there  are  various  intel 
lectual  delights  of  most  rare  diversity.     Exhibitions  of 
fat  oxen  to  charm  the  liberal  minded  amateur — Lord  By- 
6 


62 

ton's  helmet — and  Grecian  dogs,  \vhose  wonderful  ca^ 
pacity  fully  attests  to  the  astonished  world,  that  the 
march  of  mind  has  extended  even  to  the  brute  creation, 
insomuch  that  the  difference  between  instinct  and 
reason,  is  now  scarcely  perceptible  to  the  nicest  ob 
server,  and  it  is  the  opinion  of  many  of  our  learned 
men,  that  a  dog  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  considera 
bly  wiser  than  a  man  of  the  sixteenth.  There  are  also 
highly  amusing  methods  of  drawing  teeth,  teaching 
grammar  and  tachigraphy,  as  well  as  all  sorts  of  sci 
ences  and  languages,  by  methods  and  machinery,  which 
are  pretended  to  be  original,  but  which  may  be  found 
in  the  famous  Captain  Lemuel  Gulliver's  voyage  to  La- 
puta.  There  are  moreover  an  infinite  number  of  highly 
diverting  inventions  for  improving  the  condition  of  man 
kind,  and  teaching  them  economy  and  industry,  by  ena 
bling  them  to  live  without  either  at  others'  expense. 
There  are  taverns,  where  amateurs  may  drink  and 
smoke  all  the  morning,  without  offence  to  man  or  beast. 
There  is  a  famous  musician,  who  can  imitate  the  bark 
ing  of  dogs  on  his  instrument,  so  as  to  deceive  a  dog 
himself,  and  whose  "  lady"  screams  exactly  like  a  cat; 
so  that  they  make  the  divinest  harmony  that  ever  was 
heard.  There  are  the  ladies'  bonnets  and  curls,  which 
are  worth  travelling  a  hundred  miles  to  see  ;  and  their 
— what  shall  we  call  them  1 — bishops  or  pads,  which 
are  worth  a  voyage  to  the  moon,  to  behold  in  all  their 
majestic  rotundity.  There  is  also — no,  there  will  be, 
as  we  are  enabled  to  state  positively  on  the  best  autho 
rity — there  will  be  an  exhibition,  which  is  better  worth 
the.  attention  of  people  of  real  refined  taste,  than  all 


63 

those  just  enumerated  put  together.  The  gentleman 
has  politely  favoured  us  with  a  programme  of  his  eve 
ning's  exhibition,  with  permission  to  publish  it,  and  to 
announce  to  the  world  of  fashion,  that  he  will  be  here 
on  or  about  the  first  of  June. 

"  You  shall  either  laugh  or  cry." 
THEATRICAL,  DESCRIPTIVE,  PHILOSOPHICAL,  &C. 

Mr.  Hart,  the  preacher  of  natural  religion,  the  play 
actor,  the  tin  pedlar,  the  attorney  and  counsellor  at  law, 
a  lover  of  music,  and  an  admirer  of  the  fair  sex,  re 
spectfully  informs  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  New 
York,  that  on  or  about  the  first  day  of  June  next,  at 
evening  candle  light,  he  will  go  through  an  act  of  his  own 
composition,  at  some  place  of  fashionable  resort,  to 
consist  of  the  following,  parts,  viz.  : 

First.  Music  and  dancing,  and  whirling  round  part 
of  the  time  on  one  leg,  and  part  of  the  time  on  two 
legs,  like  a  top,  fifty  times,  without  showing  the  least 
giddiness. 

Second.     An  address  to  Hope,  in  blank  verse. 

Third.  The  difference  pointed  out  between  happi 
ness  above  and  happiness  below. 

Fourth.     Music. 

Fifth.  Orlando,  an  imaginary  character,  to  his  sweet 
heart. 

Sixth.  Music,  dancing,  and  whirling  round  fifty 
times. 

Seventh.  An  address  to  the  departed  spirit  of 
George  Washington. 


64 

Eighth.     Music. 

Ninth.     The  lover  solus. 

Tenth.  Music,  dancing,  and  whirling  round  fiftj 
times. 

Eleventh.  Orlando  in  despair  marries  one  he  does 
not  love,  runs  mad,  and  whirls  round  fifty  times  to  mu 
sic. 

Twelfth.  Description  of  his  contriving  to  -get  a  di 
vorce  by  means  unprecedented  in  modern  times. 

Thirteenth.  Music,  dancing,  and  whirling  round 
fifty  times. 

To  conclude  with  Mr.  Hart's  acting  the  natural  fool? 
talking  to  the  departed  spirits  of  General  Washington 
and  Thomas  Paine,  and  with  his  making  crooked 
mouths  and  wry  faces  at  the  audience. 

We  are  much  mistaken  in  the  taste  of  the  town,  if 
this  exhibition  of  Mr.  Hart  will  not  prove  one  of  the 
most  attractive  ever  presented  to  the  patronage  of  the 
fashionable  world,  and  go  near  to  ruin  all  the  theatres. 
The  bill  presents  a  variety  of  attraction  perfectly  irre 
sistible  to  all  refined  palates.  First  there  is  music, 
then  dancing,  then  whirling  round  fifty  times,  for  the 
lovers  of  the  Italian  opera  and  gymnastics ;  then  an 
address  to  Hope,  for  the  lovers  of  poetry  ;  then  a  phi 
losophical  disquisition,  for  the  lovers  of  philosophy; 
then  music,  to  put  us  in  a  proper  frame  to  listen  to  Or 
lando's  love  letter ;  then  dancing  and  whirling,  for  the 
amateurs  of  the  grand  ballet ;  then  an  address  to  a 
shade,  for  the  devourers  of  witch  and  ghost  stories ; 
then  a  lover  talking  to  himself,  for  innamoratoes  ;  the« 


65 

running  mad,  for  the  amusement  of  despairing  young 
gentlemen  ;  then  the  contrivance  for  getting  a  divorce, 
which  we  prophecy  will  be  received  with  great  ap 
plause.  But  the  cream  of  all  will  be  the  playing  of  the 
fool,  and  making  wry  faces  at  the  audience,  which  can 
not  do  otherwise  than  please  our  theatrical  amateurs, 
unless  they  should  happen  to  have  been  surfeited  with 
it  already.  In  short,  we  think  Mr.  Hart's  bill  of 
fare  fairly  distances  all  play  bills,  not  excepting  Peter 
Wilkins,  and  that  Mr.  Hart  himself  must  possess  a 
greater  versatility  of  talent,  than  the  gentlemen  and  la 
dies  who  play  six  characters  at  a  time,  or  even  than  the 
prince  of  buffoons  and  imitators,  Mr.  Mathews  himself.- 
We  have  no  doubt  the  whole  town  will  flock  to  see  him. 
and  that  we  shall  observe,  soon  after  his  arrival,  a  great 
improvement  in  the  taste  of  the  people,  as  well  as  in 
our  theatrical  exhibitions,  which  may  borrow  a  few  hints 
from  him  with  great  advantage. 

There  are  various  branches  of  domestic  industry, 
cultivated  by  the  young  ladies  of  New  York,  the  prin 
cipal  of  which  is  the  spinning  of  street  yarn,  which 
they  generally  practise  about  four  hours  a  day.  Whence 
they  are  technically  termed  spinsters.  But  the  great 
branch  of  domestic  industry  among  the  men,  is  the 
trade  in  politics,  in  which  vast  numbers  are  engaged, 
some  at  stated  seasons,  others  all  the  year  round.  Of  the 
arts  and  mysteries  of  this  business  we  profess  to  know 
nothing ;  but  we  believe,  from  the  best  information, 
that  the  whole  secret  consists  in  a  certain  dexterous  turn 
ing  of  the  coat,  which  ought  always  to  have  two  sides,  • 
one  the  exact  contrast  to  the  other,  in  colour  and  con- 
G* 


66 

sistency.  By  the  aid  of  this  sort  of  harlequin  jacket, 
a  dexterous  trader  in  politics  can,  if  lie  possesses  the 
ordinary  instinct  of  a  rat,  always  keep  a  strong  house 
over  his  head,  a  tight  vessel  under  him,  and  be  always 
in  the  right,  that  is  to  say,  always  on  the  strongest  side, 
which,  according  to  fundamental  principles,  is  being  al 
ways  right.  Some  intolerant  persons  take  upon  them 
selves  to  denounce  such  manoeuvring  of  the  outward  gar 
ment  as  unprincipled  and  disgraceful ;  but  for  our  parts 
we  hold  that  necessitas  non  habet  lex — and  it  is  within  the 
sphere  of  our  knowledge,  that  no  inconsiderable  por 
tion  of  this  abused  class  of  people,  if  they  did  not  turn 
their  coats  pretty  often,  would  very  soon  have  no  coats 
to  turn. 

Of  the  other  occupations  or  mysteries,  such  as  spend 
ing  a  great  deal  of  money,  without  having  any ;  and 
running  in  debt,  without  possessing  any  credit ;  our  li 
mits  will  not  allow  us  to  dilate  so  copiously  as  we  could 
wish.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  New  York  is  in  this  re 
spect  by  no  means  behind  hand  with  its  neighbours,  in 
asmuch  as  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  people  riding  in 
splendid  carriages,  living  in  splendid  houses,  and  own 
ing  a  whole  street,  who  when  they  come  to  settle  with 
death,  or  their  other  creditors,  pay  the  former  and  that 
is  all.  For  the  benefit  of  all  fashionable  tourists,  we 
would  wish  to  enter  upon  a  full  development  of  this  the 
most  valuable  secret  of  the  whole  art  of  living,  which 
may  possibly  one  day  stand  them  in  stead.  But  it 
would  require  volumes  of  illustrations,  and  a  minute 
ness  of  detail  irreconcilable  with  the  plan  of  this  work. 
And  even  then  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  tourist  would 


67 

be  able  to  put  the  system  in  practice,  since  many  are 
of  opinion,  that  nothing  but  a  regular  apprenticeship  in 
the  arts  of  stock  jobbing,  stock  companies,  hypotheca 
tion,  blowing  bubbles  and  bursting  them,  as  practised 
par  excellence  in  the  beau  monde  of  New  York,  will 
qualify  a  person  for  living  upon  nothing,  unless  he  has 
an  extraordinary  natural  genius. 

Among  the  many  modes  however  of  raising  the  wind 
in  New  York,  that  of  buying  lottery  tickets  is  one  of  the 
most  infallible.  It  is  amazing  what  a  number  of  prizes 
every  lottery  office  keeper  has  sold  either  in  whole  or  in 
shares,  and  what  is  yet  more  extraordinary,  as  well  as  alto 
gether  out  of  fashion,  paid  them  too  if  you  will  take  his 
word  for  it.  The  whole  insides  and  a  large  portion  of 
the  outsides  of  many  houses  in  Broadway,  are  covered 
with  the  vast  sums  thus  liberally  dispensed  to  the  public, 
and  what  is  very  remarkable,  among  all  those  who 
have  made  their  fortunes  in  this  way,  we  never  heard  of 
a  single  person  who  was  brought  to  ruin  by  it  J  People 
need  have  no  scruples  of  conscience  about  trying  their 
luck  in  this  way,  since  if  it  were  really  gambling,  the 
legislature  of  New  York  state,  which  is  a  great  enemy 
to  horse  racing — save  in  one  consecrated  spot — and  all 
other  kinds  of  gambling,  would  certainly  never  have 
authorized  a  series  of  lotteries,  of  which  some  people 
may  recollect  the  beginning,  but  nobody  can  predict  the 
end.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  philanthropic  earnestness 
with  which  the  dispensers  of  fortune's  favours,  in  the 
lotteries,  strive  to  allure  the  ignorant  and  unwary,  who 
are  not  aware  of  the  certainty  of  making  a  fortune  Hi 
this  way,  into  a  habit  of  depending  on  the  blind  goddess. 


instead  of  always  stupidly  relying  upon  the  labour  oi 
their  hands,  and  the  sweat  of  their  brows.  Nor  ought 
the  unwearied  pains  of  these  liberal  hearted  persons,  to 
coax  them  into  parting  with  all  they  have,  in  the  moral 
certainty  of  getting  back  a  hundred,  yea  a  thousand 
fold,  pass  without  due  commendation,  for  certain  it  is, 
that  if  any  body  in  New  York  is  poor,  it  must  be  owing 
to  their  own  obstinate  stupidity  in  refusing  these  disin 
terested  invitations.  N.  B.  There  are  very  severe 
laws  against  gambling  in  New  York. 

There  are  many  other  ways  of  living  and  getting 
money  here,  and  spending  it  too,  which  it  is  not  neces 
sary  to  enumerate.  We  have  premised  sufficient  to 
enable  the  enlightened  tourist,  who  peradventure  may 
have  been  left  destitute  in  a  strange  place,  by  a  run  at 
cards,  a  failure  of  remittances  or  any  other  untoward 
accident,  to  retrieve  his  fortune,  if  he  possesses  an  or 
dinary  degree  of  intrepidity  and  enterprise.  A  com 
plete  knowledge  of  the  world  is  the  first  requisite  for  living 
in  the  world,  and  the  first  step  to  the  attainment  of  this,  is 
to  know  the  difference  between  catching  and  being 
caught,  as  aptly  exemplified  in  the  fable  of  the  fox  and  the 
oyster. 

Once  upon  a  time — it  was  long  before  the  foxes 
had  their  speech  taken  from  them  lest  they  should  get 
the  better  of  man — as  Reynard  was  fishing  for  oysters 
with  his  tail,  he  had  the  good  luck  to  put  the  end  of  it 
into  the  jaws  of  a  fine  Blue  Pointer  that  lay  gaping  with 
his  mouth  wide  open,  by  reason  of  his  having  drank  too 
much  salt  water  at  dinner.  "  Ah  ha!"  cried  the  oyster, 
shutting  his  mouth  as  quickly  as  his  corpulent  belly 
would  permit—"  Ah  ha !  have  I  caught  you  at  last !" 


Reynard  tickled  to  death  at  this  wise  exclamation,  forth 
with  set  off  full  tilt  for  his  hole,  the  oyster  holding  on 
with  all  his  might,  though  he  got  most  bitterly  bethumpt 
against  the  rocks,  and  exclaiming  all  the  while,  "  Ah 
ha !  my  honest  friend,  dont  think  to  escape  me — I've 
got  you  safe  enough — ah  ha !"  All  which  he  uttered 
without  opening  his  mouth,  as  was  the  custom  of  speak 
ing  in  those  days.  Reynard  who  had  well  nigh  killed 
himself  with  laughing,  at  length  came  safe  to  his  lodg 
ings  with  the  clumsy  oyster  still  fast  to  his  tail.  After 
taking  a  little  breath,  he  addressed  it  thus,  "  Why  thou 
aquatic  snail — thou  non-descript  among  animals,  that 
art  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor  fowl — hadst  thou  but  one  sin 
gle  particle  of  brains  in  all  that  fat  carcase  of  thine,  I 
would  argue  the  matter  with  thee.  As  it  is,  I  will  soon 
teach  thee  the  difference  between  catching  and  being 
caught."  So  saying,  he  broke  the  shell  of  the  honest 
oyster,  with  a  stone,  and  swallowed  his  contents  with 
great  satisfaction. 

Having  seen  every  thing  worth  seeing,  and  eaten 
of  every  thing  worth  eating,  in  New  York,  the  traveller 
may  begin  to  prepare  for  the  ineffable  delights  of  the 
springs.  After  the  month  of  April,  oysters  become  un 
lawful,  and  canvass  backs  are  out  of  season.  There  is 
then  nothing  to  detain  the  inquisitive  tourist,  and  there 
are  many  things  that  render  his  speedy  departure  highly 
expedient.  As  Caesar  was  cautioned  by  the  seer  to 
beware  the  Ides  of  March,  so  do  we  in  like  manner, 
seriously  and  vehemently  caution  the  tourist  to  beware 
of  the  first  of  May,  in  other  countries  and  places  the 
season  of  May  poles,  rural  dances,  and  rustic  loves ; 


70 

but  in  New  York,  the  period  in  which  a  great  portion  of 
the  inhabitants,  seem  to  be  enjoying  a  game  at  puss-in- 
a-corner,  or  move  all.  Woe  be  to  the  traveller  who 
happens  to  sojourn  in  a  house  where  this  game  is  going 
on,  for  he  will  find  no  rest  to  the  soles  of  his  feet.  His 
chair,  and  his  bed,  his  carpet,  and  his  joint  stool,  will  be 
taken  from  under  him,  and  he  will  be  left  alone  as  it 
were  like  one  howling  in  the  wilderness.  People  seem 
to  be  actually  deranged,  as  well  as  their  establishments, 
insomuch  that  the  prize  poet  whom  we  have  quoted  be 
fore,  not  long  since  produced  the  following  extempore 
on  the  first  of  May  : 

"  Sing,  heavenly  muse  !  which  is  the  greatest  day, 
The  first  of  April,  or  the  first  of  May ; 
Or  ye  who  moot  nice  points  in  learned  schools, 
Tell  us  which  breeds  the  greatest  crop  of  fools  !" 

For  a  more  particular  account  of  this  festival,  which 
particularly  distinguishes  the  city  of  New  York  from  all 
others  in  the  known  world,  we  refer  our  readers  to  the 
following  letter.  There  is  however  some  reason  to 
surmise  that  it  prevailed  in  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii, 
and  was  one  of  the  causes  which  brought  the  vengeance 
of  the  gods  on  these  unfortunate  cities. 

COLONEL  CULPEPER  TO  MAJOR   BRANDE. 

New  York,  May  2,  1827. 

MY  DEAR  MAJOR, — I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  that 
yesterday  morning  at  daylight,  or  a  little  before,  a  largo 
portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  city  ran  mad,  in  a 
most  singular,  I  might  say,  original  manner;  for  I 
dont  remember  to  have  seen  this  particular  species 


71 

described  in  any  work  on  the  subject.  This  infirmity  itf 
peculiar  to  this  precise  season  of  the  year,  and  generally 
manifests  itself  a  day  or  two  previous  to  the  crisis,  in  a 
perpetual  fidgeting  about  the  house  ;  rummaging  up 
every  thing ;  putting  every  thing  out  of  place,  and 
making  a  most  ostentatious  display  of  crockery  and  tin 
ware.  In  proof  of  its  not  having  any  affinity  to  hydro 
phobia,  it  is  sufficient  to  observe  that  the  disease  inva 
riably  manifests  itself  in  a  vehement  disposition  to 
scrubbing  floors,  washing  windows,  and  dabbling  in 
water  in  all  possible  ways.  The  great  and  decisive 
symptom,  and  one  which  is  always  followed  by  an  al 
most  instantaneous  remission  of  the  disorder,  is  scram 
bling  out  of  one  house  as  fast  as  you  can,  and  getting 
into  another,  as  soon  as  possible.  But  as  I  consider 
this  as  one  of  the  most  curious  cases  that  ever  came 
under  my  observation,  I  will  give  you  a  particular  ac 
count  of  every  prominent  symptom  accompanying  it, 
with  a  request  you  will  communicate  the  whole  to  Dr. 
Brady,  for  his  decision  on  the  matter. 

It  being  a  fine,  bright,  mild  morning,  I  got  up  early, 
to  take  a  walk  on  the  Battery,  the  most  glorious  place 
for  a  morning  or  evening  stroll,  to  be  found  in  the  world. 
It  is  almost  worth  coming  here,  to  inhale  the  exquisite 
coolness  of  the  saline  air,  and  watch  the  ever  moving 
scenery  of  little  white  sails,  majestic  displays  of  snowy 
canvass  that  look  like  fleecy  clouds  against  the  hills  of 
Jersey  and  Staten  Island,  and  all  the  life  of  nature, 
connected  with  her  beautiful  repose  on  the  bosom  of 
the  still  mirror  of  the  expansive  bay.  Coming  down 
into  the  entry,  I  found  it  cluttered  up  with  a  specimen  of 


almost  every  thing  that  goes  to  the  composition  of  house 
keeping,  and  three  or  four  sturdy  fellows  with  hand 
barrows,  on  which  they  were  piling  Ossa  upon  Pelion. 
I  asked  what  the  matter  was,  but  all  I  could  get  out  of 
them  was,  "  First  of  May,  sir — please  to  stand  out  of 
the  way — first  of  May,  sir."  So  I  passed  on  into  the 
street,  where  I  ran  the  gauntlet,  among  looking  glasses, 
old  pictures,  baskets  of  crockery,  and  all  other  matters 
and  things  in  general.  The  side  walks  were  infested  with 
processions  of  this  sort,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  streets, 
were  innumerable  carts  loaded  with  a  general  jail  delivery 
of  all  the  trumpery,  good,  bad  and  indifferent,  that  the  care 
lessness  of  servants  had  broken,  or  the  economy  of  the 
housewives  preserved.  If  I  stopt  to  contemplate  this 
inexplicable  scene,  some  male  monster  was  sure  to 
bounce  against  me  out  of  a  street  door,  with  a  feather 
bed,  or  assault  me  in  the  breach  with  the  corner  of  a 
looking  glass,  or  some  projection  still  more  belligerent ; 
while  all  the  apology  I  got,  was  u  First  of  May — take 
care,  sir— first  of  May."  Sometimes  I  was  beleaguered 
between  two  hand  barrows,  coming  different  ways,  and 
giving  each  other  just  enough  room  to  squeeze  me  half 
to  death.  At  others,  I  was  run  foul  of  by  a  basket  of 
crockery  or  cut  glass,  with  a  woman  under  it,  to  the 
imminent  risk  of  demolishing  these  precious  articles  so 
dear  to  the  heart  of  the  sex,  and  got  not  only  sour  looks 
but  words,  while  my  bones  were  aching  with  bumps  and 
bruises. 

Finding  there  was  no  peace  in  Israel,  I  determined 
to  get  home  without  farther  delay,  and  ensconce  myself 
vsnugly,  until  this  fearful-irruption  of  the  household  god?> 


73 

and  their  paraphernalia,  had  passed  away.  But  I  forgo! 
that  "  returning  were  as  tedious  as  go  o'er."  There 
was  not  an  old  chair,  or  a  looking  glass,  or  a  picture,  or 
any  article  cursed  with  sharp  angles,  that  did  not  appear 
to  have  an  irresistible  attraction  towards  some  part  of 
my  body,  especially  that  portion  which  oftenest  comes 
in  contact  with  other  bodies.  In  attempting  to  steer 
elear  of  a  hand  barrow,  I  encountered  a  looking  glass, 
which  the  lady  owner  was  following  with  pious  care, 
and  shattered  it  into  a  thousand  pieces.  The  lady 
fainted ;  in  my  zeal  to  apologize  and  assist  her,  I  un 
fortunately  grazed  a  glass  lustre,  which  caught  in  my 
button  hole,  and  drew  after  it  a  little  French  woman,  who 
luckily  lighted  on  a  feather  bed  which  an  Irishman  had 
set  down  to  rest  himself:  "  Mon  Dieu!"  cried  the  little 
woman  :  "  Jasus  !"  exclaimed  the  Irishman  ;  the  lady 
of  the  looking  glass  wept ;  the  little  demoiselle  laughed ; 
the  Irishman  stole  a  kiss  of  her ;  and  the  valiant  Colonel 
Culpeper,  sagely  surmising  that  the  better  part  of  valour 
was  discretion,  made  a  masterly  retreat  into  the  entry  of 
his  domicil,  where  by  the  same  token  he  ran  full  against 
my  landlady,  who  in  a  paroxysm  of  the  disorder  was 
sallying  forth  with  both  hands  full,  and  demolished  her 
spectacles  irrevocably. 

Finding  myself  thus  environed  with  perils  on  all  sides, 
I  retreated  to  my  bed  chamber,  but  here  I  found  the 
madness  raging  with  equal  violence.  A  servant  maid 
was  pulling  up  the  carpet,  and  pulling  down  the  curtains, 
and  making  the  dust  fly  in  all  directions,  with  a  feverish 
activity  that  could  only  have  been  produced  by  a  degree 
of  excitement  altogether  unnatural.  There  was  uo 

7 


74 

living  here,  so  I  retreated  to  the  dining  room,  where 
every  thing  was  out  of  its  place  and  the  dust  thicker, 
than  in  the  bed  room ;  mops  going  in  one  corner* 
brooms  flourishing  in  another,  sideboards  standing  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  and  dining  tables  flapping  their 
wings,  as  if  partaking  in  that  irresistible  propensity  to 
motion  which  seemed  to  pervade  every  thing  animate 
and  inanimate. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  I  to  a  grave  old  gentleman,  who 
sat  reading  a  newspaper,  apparently  unmoved  amid  the 
general  confusion.  "  Pray,  sir,  can  you  tell  me  what  all 
this  confusion  means  ?"  "  O  its  only  the  first  of  May,'* 
he  replied,  without  taking  his  eyes  off  the  newspaper* 
Alas  !  he  too  is  mad,  thought  I.  But  I'll  trys  him 
again. 

"  The  first  of  May,  what  of  the  first  of  May  ?" 

"  'Tis  moving  time." 

"  Moving  time  !  what  is  that  ?" 

"  The  time  when  every  body  moves." 

"  But  why  does  every  body  move  just  at  this  time  V7 

11 1  cant  tell  except  it  be  because  it  is  the  first  of 
Hay.  But,"  added  he,  looking  up  at  last  with  a  droll 
smile,  "  you  seem  to  be  a  stranger,  and  perhaps  dont 
know  that  the  first  of  May,  is  the  day  of  all  others  in  the 
year,  when  the  good  people  of  this  town,  have  one  and 
all  agreed  to  play  at  the  game  of  move  all.  They  are 
now  at  it  with  all  their  might.  But  to-morrow,  all  will 
be  quiet,  and  we  shall  be  settled  in  a  different  part  of 
the  street." 

"  0  then  the  people  are  not  mad,"  said  I. 


75 

"  By  no  means,  they  are  only  complying  with  an  old 
Custom." 

"  >Tis  an  odd  custom." 

"  It  is  so,  but  not  more  odd  than  many  others  in  all 
parts  of  the  world." 

"  Will  you  be  so  obliging  as  to  tell  me  its  origin,  and 
the  reason  for  it  ?" 

"  Why  as  to  the  reason,  half  the  old  customs  we 
blindly  follow  are  just  as  difficult  to  account  for,  and 
apparently  as  little  founded  in  reason  as  this.  It  would 
be  too  much  to  make  people  give  reasons  for  every 
thing  they  do.  This  custom  of  moving  in  a  body  on 
May  day,  is  said  however  to  have  originated  at  a  very 
early  period  in  the  history  of  New  York,  when  there 
were  but  two  houses  in  it.  The  tenants  of  these  taking 
it  into  their  heads  to  change  their  domicil,  and  having  no 
others  to  remove  to,  agreed  to  start  fair  at  one  and  the 
same  time  with  bag  and  baggage,  and  thus  step  into 
each  other's  shoes.  They  did  so,  and  the  arrangement 
was  found  so  convenient  that  it  has  passed  into  general 
practice  ever  since." 

"  And  so  the  good  people  take  it  for  granted  that  a 
custom  which  necessity  forced  upon  them  when  there 
were  but  two  houses  in  the  city,  is  calculated  for  a 
city  with  thirty  thousand.  A  capital  pedigree  for  an 
old  custom." 

"  'Tis  as  good  as  one  half  the  old  customs  of  the 
world  can  boast  of,"  replied  the  philosopher,  and  resu 
med  his  studies.  "  But,"  said  I,  "how  can  you  possibly 
read  in  all  this  hub-bub  ?"  "  O,"  replied  he,  "  I've 
moved  every  May  day  for  the  last  forty  years." 


76 

Inquiring  where  the  house  was  situated,  into  which 
the  family  was  moving,  I  made  for  it  with  all  conve 
nient  speed,  hoping  to  find  there  a  resting  place  for 
my  wearied  and  bruised  body.  But  I  fell  out  of  the 
frying  pan  into  the  fire.  The  spirit  of  moving  was  here 
more  rampant  than  at  my  other  home,  and  between 
moving  in  and  moving  out,  there  was  no  chance  of  esca 
ping  a  jostle  or  a  jog,  from  some  moving  moveable,  in  its 
arrival  or  departure.  Despairing  of  a  resting  place  here. 
I  determined  to  drop  in  upon  an  old  friend,  and  proceed 
ed  to  his  house.  But  he  too  was  moving.  From  thence 
I  went  to  a  hotel  in  hopes  of  a  quiet  hour  in  the  reading 
room  ;  but  the  hotel  was  moving  too.  1  jumped  into  a 
hack,  bidding  the  man  drive  out  of  town  as  fast  as  pos 
sible.  "  I'm  moving  a  family,  sir,  and  cant  serve  you," 
cried  he ;  and  just  then  somebody  thrust  the  corner  of 
a  looking  glass  into  my  side,  and  almost  broke  one  of 
my  ribs.  At  this  critical  moment,  seeing  the  door  of  a 
church  invitingly  open,  I  sought  refuge  in  its  peaceful 
aisles.  But  alas  !  major,  every  thing  was  in  confusion 
here  ;  the  floors  in  a  puddle,  the  pews  wet,  the  prayer 
books  piled  in  heaps,  and  women  splashing  the  win 
dows  furiously  with  basins  of  water.  "  Zounds  !"  said 
I  to  one  of  them,  "  are  you  moving  too  ?"  and  without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  walked  into  the  church  yard,  in 
hopes  I  should  find  them  quiet  there.  Here  I  sauntered 
about,  reading  the  records  of  mortality,  and  moralizing 
on  the  contrast  between  the  ever  moving  scene  without 
and  the  undisturbed  repose  within.  There  was  but  a 
wooden  fence  to  mark  the  separation  between  the  region 
of  life  and  that  of  death.  In  a  few  minutes  my  perturba- 


77 

lion  subsided,  the  little  rubs  and  vexations  I  had  under 
gone  during  the  day  faded  into  insignificance  before  the 
solemn  meditations  on  that  everlasting  remove  to  which 
we  all  are  destined.  I  went  home,  dined  at  my  old 
house,  slept  in  my  new  'lodgings,  on  a  wet  floor., 
and  caught  a  rheumatism  in  my  left  shoulder. 

Adieu,  major.  If  you  ever  visit  New  York  beware  of 
the  first  of  May. 

From  this  letter,  which  we  assure  our  readers  is  of 
the  first  authority,  it  will  appear  sufficiently  apparent 
that  the  elegant  tourist  should  so  arrange  his  pleasures, 
for  business  he  ought  not  to  have  any,  as  either  to  ar 
rive  at  New  York  after,  or  quit  it  before  the  first  day  of 
May.  Previous  to  his  departure,  it  will  be  proper  for 
the  traveller,  if  a  gentleman,  to  furnish  himself  with  the 
following  indispensable  conveniences,  viz.  : 

The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers,  and  Guide  to  the 
Springs.  N.  B.  Be  careful  to  ask  for  the  NEW  MIR 
ROR. 

Two  shirts.  N.  B.  Dickies,  or  collars,  with  ruffles, 
will  answer. 

Plenty  of  cravats,  which  are  the  best  apologies  for 
shirts  in  the  world,  except  ruffles. 

Six  coats,  including  a  surtout  and  box  coat.  N.  B. 
If  you  cant  afford  to  pay  for  these,  the  tailor  must  suffer 
— there  is  no  help  for  him. 

Forty  pair  of  pantaloons,  of  all  sorts.  Ditto  waist 
coats. 

Twelve  pair  of  white  kid  gloves. 

Twelve  pair  of  boots.     N.  B.  If  you  wear  boots  al- 


78 

together,  stockings  are  unnecessary,  except  at  balls — 
economy  is  a  blessed  thing. 

Twelve  tooth  brushes. 

Twelve  hair  brushes. 

Six  clothes  brushes — one  for  each  coat. 

A  percussion  gun  and  a  pointer  dog.  N.  B.  No 
matter  whether  you  are  a  sportsman  or  not — it  looks 
well. 

A  pair  of  pistols,  to  shoot  a  friend  now  and  then. 

An  umbrella,  which  you  can  borrow  of  a  friend  and 
forget  to  return. 

A  portmanteau  without  any  name  or  initials,  so  that 
if  you  should  happen  to  take  some  one's  else,  it  may 
pass  for  a  mistake.  N.  B.  Never  make  such  mistakes, 
unless  there  is  some  special  reason  for  it. 

A  pocket  book,  well  filled  with  bank  notes.  If  you 
cant  raise  the  wind,  with  the  genuine,  you  may  buy  a 
few  counterfeits  cheap.  Any  money  is  good  enough 
for  travelling,  and  if  one  wont  take  it  another  will. 
Dont  be  discouraged  at  one  refusal — try  it  again.  If 
you  are  well  dressed,  and  have  a  gun  and  a  pointer  dog, 
no  one  will  suspect  you.  N.  B.  There  are  no  police 
officers  in  the  steam  boats. 

There  is  one  class  of  travellers  deserving  a  whole 
book  by  themselves,  could  we  afford  to  write  one  for 
their  especial  benefit.  We  mean  the  gentlemen  who, 
as  the  African  negro  said,  "  walk  big  way — write  big 
book;" — tourists  by  profession,  who  explore  this  country 
for  the  pleasure  of  their  readers,  and  their  own  profit, 
and  travel  at  the  expense  of  the  reputation  of  one  coun 
try,  and  the  pockets  of  another ;  who  pay  for  a  dinner 


79 

by  libelling  their  entertainer,  and  their  passage  in  a 
steam  boat,  by  retailing  the  information  of  the  steward 
or  coxswain ;  to  whom  the  sight  of  a  porpoise  at  sea 
affords  matter  for  profitable  speculation ;  who  make 
more  out  of  a  flying  fish  than  a  market  woman  does  out 
of  a  sheep's  head  ;  and  dispose  of  a  tolerable  storm  at 
the  price  of  a  week's  board.  These  are  the  travellers 
for  our  money,  being  the  only  ones  on  record,  except 
the  pedlars,  who  unite  the  profits  of  business  with  the 
pleasures  of  travelling — a  consummation  which  authors 
have  laboured  at  in  vain,  until  the  present  happy  age  of 
improvements,  when  sentimental  young  ladies  wear  spat 
ter-dashes,  and  stout  young  gentlemen  white  kid  gloves ; 
when  an  opera  singer  receives  a  higher  salary  than  an 
archbishop,  and  travels  about  with  letters  of  introduc 
tion  from  kings  ! 

Of  all  countries  in  the  world,  Old  England,  our  kind, 
gentle,  considerate  old  mamma,  sends  forth  the  largest 
portion  of  this  species  of  literary  "  riders,"  who  sweep 
up  the  materials  for  a  book  by  the  road  side.  They  are 
held  of  so  much  consequence  as  to  be  patronized  by  the 
government,  which  expends  large  sums  in  sending  them 
to  the  North  Pole,  only  to  tell  us  in  a  "  big  book,"  how 
cold  it  is  there  ;  or  to  Africa,  to  distribute  glass  beads, 
and  repeat  over  and  over  the  same  things,  through  a 
score  of  huge  quartos.  With  these  we  do  not  concern 
ourselves ;.  but  inasmuch  as  it  hath  been  alleged,  how 
ever  unjustly,  that  those  who  have  from  time  to  time 
honoured  this  country  with  their  notice,  have  been 
guilty  of  divers  sins  of  ignorance,  prejudice,  and  ma 
lignity,  we  here  offer  them  a  compendium  of  regula- 


80 

tions,  by  the  due  observance  of  which,  they  may  in  fu 
ture  avoid  these  offences,  and  construct  a  "big  book,'* 
which  shall  give  universal  satisfaction. 

Rules  for  gentlemen  who  "walk  big  way — make  big 
book." 

Never  fail  to  seize  every  opportunity  to  lament,  with 
tears  in  your  eyes,  the  deplorable  state  of  religion 
among  "  these  republicans."  People  will  take  it  for 
granted  you  are  a  very  pious  man. 

Never  lose  an  opportunity  of  canting  about  the  sad 
state  of  morals  among  these  republicans.  People  will 
give  you  credit  for  being  very  moral  yourself. 

Whenever  you  have  occasion  to  mention  the  fourth  of 
July,  the  birth  day  of  Washington,  or  any  other  great 
national  anniversary,  dont  forget  to  adduce  it  as  proof 
of  the  bitter  hostility  felt  by  these  republicans  towards 
the  English,  and  to  lament  these  practices,  as  tending 
to  keep  up  the  memory  of  the  revolution,  as  well  as  to 
foster  national  antipathies. 

Be  very  particular  in  noticing  stage  drivers,  waiters, 
tavern  keepers,  and  persons  of  importance,  who,  as  it 
were,  represent  the  character  of  the  people.  When 
ever  you  want  any  deep  and  profound  information,  al 
ways  apply  to  them  : — they  are  the  best  authority  you 
can  have. 

If  you  happen  to  fall  in  company  with  a  public  man 
in  the  stage  or  steam  boat,  take  the  first  opportunity  of 
pumping  the  driver  or  waiter.  These  fellows  know 
every  thing,  and  can  tell  you  all  the  lies  that  have  ever 
been  uttered  against  him. 


81 

If  you  dine  with  a  hospitable  gentleman,  dont  fail  to 
repay  him  by  dishing  up  himself,  his  wife,  daughters,  and 
dinner  in  your  book.  If  the  little  boys  dont  behave  re 
spectfully  towards  you,  and  sneak  into  a  corner  with 
their  fingers  in  their  mouths,  cut  them  up  handsomely 
— father,  mother,  and  all.  Be  sure  you  give  their 
names  at  full  length  ;  be  particular  in  noting  every  dish 
on  the  table,  and  dont  forget  pumping  the  waiter. 

Tell  all  the  old  stories  which  the  Yankees  repeat  of 
their  southern  and  western  neighbours,  and  which  the 
latter  have  retorted  upon  them.  Be  sure  not  to  forget  the 
gouging  of  the  judge,  the  roasting  of  the  negro,  the 
wooden  nutmegs,  the  indigo  coal;  and  above  all,  the 
excellent  story  of  the  wooden  bowls.  Never  inquire 
whether  they  are  true  or  not ;  they  will  make  John  Bull 
twice  as  happy  as  he  is  at  present. 

Never  write  a  line  without  having  the  fear  of  the 
reviewers  before  your  eyes,  and  remember  how  poor 
Miss  Wright  got  abused  for  praising  these  republicans 
and  sinners. 

Never  be  deterred  from  telling  a  story  to  the  discredit 
of  any  people,  especially  republicans,  on  the  score  of 
its  improbability.  John  Bull,  for  whom  you  write,  will 
swallow  any  thing,  from  a  pot  of  beer  to  a  melo-drama. 
He  is  even  a  believer  in  his  own  freedom. 

Never  be  deterred  from  telling  a  story  on  account  of 
its  having  been  told  over  and  over  again,  b^  every 
traveller  since  the  discovery  of  America  by  the  literati 
of  Europe.  If  the  reader  has  seen  it  before,  it  is  only 
meeting  an  old  friend ;  if  he  has  not,  it  is  making 
a  new  acquaintance.  But  be  sure  you  dont  forget  to 


82 

say  that  you  saw  every  thing  you  describe.  To  quote 
from  another  is  to  give  him  all  the  credit,  and  is  almost 
as  bad  as  robbing  your  own  house.  There  is  nothing 
makes  a  lie  look  so  much  like  truth  as  frequent  repeti 
tion.  If  you  know  it  to  be  false,  dont  let  that  deter 
you ;  for  as  you  did  not  invent  it  yourself,  you  cannot 
be  blamed. 

Abuse  all  the  women  in  mass,  out  of  compliment  to 
your  own  country  women.  The  days  of  chivalry  are 
past,  and  more  honour  comes  of  attacking,  than  defend 
ing  ladies  in  the  present  age  of  public  improvements. 
Besides  all  the  world  loves  scandal,  and  a  book  filled 
with  the  praises  of  one  nation  is  an  insult  to  the  rest  of 
the  world. 

If  the  stage  breaks  down  with  you,  give  the  roads  no 
quarter. 

If  you  get  an  indifferent  breakfast  at  an  inn,  cut  up 
the  whole  town  where  the  enormity  was  committed, 
pretty  handsomely.  If  a  bad  dinner,  deprive  the  whole 
nation  of  its  morals.  If  a  sorry  supper,  take  away  the 
reputation  of  the  landlady,  the  cook,  and  the  landlady's 
daughters  incontinently.  And  if  they  put  you  to  sleep 
in  a  two  bedded  room,  although  the  other  bed  be  empty, 
it  is  sufficient  provocation  to  set  them  all  Mown  for  in 
fidels,  thereby  proving  yourself  a  zealous  Christian. 

Never  read  any  book  written  by  natives  of  the  coun 
try  you  mean  to  describe.  They  are  always  partial ; 
and  besides,  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  always  fetters  the 
imagination,  and  circumscribes  invention.  It  is  fatal 
f.o  the  composition  of  a  romance. 

Never  suffer  the  hospitalities  and  kindness  of  these 


83 

republicans  to  conciliate  you,  except  just  while  you  are 
enjoying  them.  You  may  eat  their  dinners  and  receive 
their  attentions  ;  but  never  forget  that  if  you  praise  the 
Yankees,  John  Bull  will  condemn  your  book  ;  and  that 
charity  begins  at  home.  The  first  duty  of  a  literary 
traveller  is  to  make  a  book  that  will  sell ;  the  rest  is  be 
tween  him  and  his  conscience,  and  is  nobody's  business. 

Never  mind  what  these  republicans  say  of  you  or  your 
book.'  You  never  mean  to  come  among  them  again  ; 
or  if  you  do,  you  can  come  incog,  under  a  different 
name.  Let  them  abuse  you  as  much  as  they  please. 
"Who  reads  an  American  book?"  No  Englishman 
certainly,  except  with  a  view  of  borrowing  its  con 
tents  without  giving  the  author  credit  for  them.  Be 
sides,  every  true  born  Englishman  knows,  that  the 
shortest  way  of  elevating  his  own  country,  is  to  depress 
all  others  as  much  as  possible. 

Never  fail  to  find  fault  with  every  thing,  and  grumblfi 
without  ceasing.  People  wont  know  you  for  an  Eng 
lishman  else. 

Never  mind  your  geography,  as  you  are  addressing 
yourself  to  people  who  dont  know  a  wild  turkey  from 
Turkey  in  Europe.  Your  book  will  sell  just  as  well  if 
you  place  New  York  on  the  Mississippi,  and  New  Or 
leans  on  the  Hudson.  You  will  be  kept  in  countenance 
by  a  certain  British  secretary  of  foreign  affairs,  who  is 
said  to  have  declared  the  right  to  navigate  the  St. 
Lawrence  inadmissible  to  the  United  States,  because  it 
would  give  them  a  direct  route  to  the  Pacific. 

You  need  not  make  any  special  inquiries  into  the 
*tate  of  morals,  because  every  body  knows  that  repub.- 


84 

lieans  have  no  morality.  Nor  of  religion,  because  every 
body  knows  they  tolerate  all  religions,  and  of  course 
can  have  none.  Nor  of  their  manners,  because  as  there 
is  no  distinction  of  ranks  recognized  in  their  constitution, 
every  body  knows  they  must  be  all  blackguards.  The 
person  most  completely  qualified  of  any  we  ever  met  with 
for  a  traveller,  was  a  worthy  Englishman,  who  being 
very  near  sighted,  and  hard  of  hearing,  was  not  led 
astray  by  the  villany  of  his  five  senses  ;  and  what  was 
very  remarkable  his  book  contained  quite  as  much  truth 
as  those  of  his  more  fortunate  contemporaries  who  were 
embarrassed  by  eyes  and  ears. 

If  the  tourist  belongs  to  the  "  last  best  work,"  the 
following  articles  are  of  the  first  necessity  hi  a  visit  to 
the  springs. 

Six  fashionable  hats,  in  bandboxes.  N.  B.  The 
steam  boats  are  pretty  capacious,  and  from  Albany  to 
the  springs,  you  can  hire  an  extra. 

Two  lace  veils  to  hide  blushes.  If  you  never  blush, 
there  is  no  harm  done. 

An  indispensable  for  miscellaneous  matters.  Beware 
of  pockets  and  pick  pockets. 

Two  trunks  of  bareges,  gros  de  Naples  and  silks. 

Two  trunks  of  miscellaneous  finery. 

A  dressing  case. 

One  large  trunk  containing  several  sets  of  curls 
baked,  prepared  by  Monsieur  Manuel. 

The  last  Waverley. 

Plenty  of  airs. 

Ditto  of  graces. 


85 

Six  beaux  to  amuse  you  on  the  journey.  N.  B.  A 
poodle  will  do  as  well. 

A  dozen  pair  of  white  satin  shoes  to  ramble  about  in 
the  swamps  at  Saratoga  and  Ballston.  Leather  smells 
vilely,  and  prunelle  is  quite  vulgar. 

Six  dozen  pair  of  silk  hose,  the  thinnest  that  can  be 
had.  There  is  nothing  so  beautiful  as  flesh  colour  with 
open  clocks. 

A  travelling  chain,  the  largest  and  heaviest  that  can 
be  had,  to  wear  round  the  neck.  This  will  furnish  the 
beaux  with  a  hint  for  saying  clever  things  about  chains, 
darts,  &c.  and  the  poodle  can  sometimes  play  with  it. 

fcjr* There  is  no  occasion  for  a  pocket  book,  as  papa 
(or  his  creditors)  pays  all,  and  young  ladies  ought  never 
to  know  any  thing  about  the  value  of  money,  it  sophis 
ticates  the  purity  of  their  unadulterated  sentiments. 

These  principal  requisites  being  procured  you  take 
the  steam  boat  for  Albany.  If  you  are  in  a  great  hurry, 
or  not  afraid  of  being  drowned  in  going  ashore  at  West 
Point,  or  blown  up  by  the  way,  take  one  of  the  fastest 
boats  you  can  find.  But  if  you  wish  to  travel  pleasantly, 
eat  your  meals  in  comfort,  associate  with  genteel  com 
pany,  sleep  in  quiet,  and  wake  up  alive,  our  advice  is  to 
take  one  of  the  SAFETY  BARGES,  where  all  these  advan 
tages  are  combined.  It  grieves  us  to  the  soul  to  see 
these  sumptuous  aquatic  palaces,  which  constitute  the 
very  perfection  of  all  earthly  locomotion  almost  de 
serted,  by  the  ill  advised  traveller — and  for  what  ?  that 
he  may  get  to  Albany  a  few  hours  sooner,  as  if  it  were 
not  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  a  genteel  man  oi" 
8 


86 

pleasure  to  have  more  time  on  his  hands  than  he  knows 
what  to  do  with.  Let  merchants,  and  tradesmen,  and 
brokers,  and  handicraft  people,  and  all  those  condemned 
to  the  labour  of  hands,  to  whom  time  is  as  money, 
patronize  the  swift  boats  ;  and  let  those  who  are  running 
away  from  justice  affect  these  vehicles  ;  but  for  the  man 
of  leisure,  whose  sole  business  is  to  kill  time  pleasantly,, 
enjoy  himself  at  his  ease,  and  dine  free  from  the  infa 
mous  proximity  of  hungry  rogues,  who  devour  with  their 
eyes  what  they  cant  reach  with  their  hands,  the  safety 
barges  are  preferable  even  to  the  chariot  of  the  sun. 
N.  B.  We  dont  mean  to  discourage  people  who  may 
cherish  the  harmless  propensity  to  be  blown  up — every 
one  to  their  taste. 

The  following  hints  will  be  found  serviceable  to  all 
travellers  in  steam  boats. 

In  the  miscellaneous  melange  usually  found  in  these 
machines,  the  first  duty  of  a  man  is  to  take  care  of  him 
self — to  get  the  best  seat  at  table,  the  best  location  on 
deck ;  and  when  these  are  obtained  to  keep  resolute 
possession  in  spite  of  all  the  significant  looks  of  the 
ladies. 

If  your  heart  yearns  for  a  particularly  comfortable 
seat  which  is  occupied  by  a  lady,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to 
Iceep  your  eye  steadily  upon  it,  and  the  moment  she  gets 
up,  dont  wait  to  see  if  she  is  going  to  return,  but  take 
possession  without  a  moment's  delay.  If  she  comes 
back  again,  be  sure  not  to  see  her. 

Keep  a  sharp  look  out  for  meals.  An  experienced 
traveller  can  always  tell  when  these  amiable  convenien- 


87 

ees  are  about  being  served  up,  by  a  mysterious  move 
ment  on  the  part  of  the  ladies,  and  a  mysterious  agita 
tion  among  the  male  species,  who  may  be  seen  gradu 
ally  approximating  towards  the  cabin  doors.  Whenever 
you  observe  these  symptoms,  it  is  time  to  exert  yourself 
by  pushing  thraugh  the  crowd  to  the  place  of  flagons. 
Never  mind  the  sour  looks,  but  elbow  your  way  with 
resolution  and  perseverance,  remembering  that  a  man 
can  eat  but  so  many  meals  in  his  life,  and  that  the  loss 
of  one  can  never  be  retrieved. 

The  most  prudent  and  infallible  arrangement,  how 
ever,  is  that  generally  pursued  by  your  knowing  English 
travellers,  which  is  as  follows :  As  soon  as  you  have  seen 
your  baggage  disposed  of,  and  before  the  waiters  have 
had  time  to  shut  the  cabin  doors,  preparatory  to  laying  the 
tables,  station  yourself  in  a  proper  situation  for  action 
at  one  of  them.  The  inside  is  the  best,  for  there  you 
are  not  in  the  way  of  the  servants.  Resolutely  main 
tain  your  position  in  spite  of  the  looks  and  hints  of  the 
servants  about,  "  Gentlemen  being  in  the  way,"  and 
"  No  chance  to  set  the  tables."  You  can  be  reading  a 
book  or  a  newspaper,  and  not  hear  them  ;  or  the  best 
way  is  to  pretend  to  be  asleep. 

Keep  a  wary  eye  for  a  favourite  dish,  and  if  it  hap- 
pefts  to  be  placed  at  a  distance,  or  on  another  table,  you 
can  take  an  opportunity  to  look  hard  at  an  open  window, 
as  if  there  was  too  much  air  for  you,  shrug  your  shoul 
ders,  and  move  opposite  the  dish  aforesaid. 

The  moment  the  bell  rings,  fall  to ;  you  need  not 
wait  for  the  rest  of  the  company  to  be  seated,  or  mind 
the  ladies,  for  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost  on  these  occa- 


88 

sions.  For  the  same  reason,  you  should  keep  you? 
eyes  moving  about,  from  one  end  of  the  table  to  the 
other,  in  order  that  if  you  see  any  tiling  you  like,  you 
can  send  for  it  without  losing  time.  Call  as  loudly  and 
as  often  as  possible  for  the  waiter  ;  the  louder  you  call, 
the  more  consequence  you  will  gain  with  the  company. 
If  he  dont  mind  you,  dont  hesitate  to  snatch  whatever 
he  has  got  in  his  hands,  if  you  happen  to  want  it. 

Be  sure  to  have  as  many  different  things  on  your  plate 
at  one  time  as  possible,  and  to  use  your  own  knife  in 
cutting  up  all  the  dishes  within  your  reach,  and  particu 
larly  in  helping  yourself  to  butter,  though  there  may  be 
knives  on  purpose.  N.  B.  It  is  of  no  consequence 
whether  your  knife  is  fishy  or  not. 

Dont  wait  for  the  dessert  to  be  laid,  but  the  moment  a 
pudding  or  a  pie  is  placed  within  your  reach,  fall  to  and 
spare  not.  Get  as  much  pudding,  pie,  nuts,  apples, 
raisins,  &c.  on  your  plate  as  it  will  hold,  and  eat  all  to 
gether. 

Pay  no  attention  to  the  ladies,  who  have  or  ought  to 
have  friends  to  take  care  of  them,  or  they  have  no  bu 
siness  to  be  travelling  in  steam  boats. 

The  moment  you  have  eaten  every  thing  within  your 
reach,  and  are  satisfied  nothing  more  is  forthcoming,  get 
up  and  make  for  the  cabin  door  with  a  segar  in  your 
hand.  No  matter  if  you  are  sitting  at  the  middle  of  the 
inner  side  of  the  table,  and  disturb  a  dozen  or  two  of 
people.  They  have  no  business  to  be  in  your  way.  If 
it  is  supper  time  and  the  candles  lighted,  you  .had  best 
light  your  segar  at  one  of  them,  and  puff  a  little  be 
fore  you  proceed  for  fear  it  should  go  out.'  N.  B,  If 


89 

you  were  to  take  an  opportunity  to  find  fault  with  the 
meals,  the  attendants,  and  the  boat,  in  an  audible  tone, 
as  Englishmen  do,  it  will  serve  to  give  people  an  idea 
you  have  been  used  to  better  at  home. 

Never  think  of  pulling  off  your  hat  on  coming  into 
the  cabin,  though  it  happens  to  be  full  of  ladies.  It 
looks  anti-republican  ;  and  besides  has  the  appearance 
of  not  having  been  used  to  better  company. 

Never  miss  an  opportunity  of  standing  in  the  door 
way,  or  on  the  stairs,  or  in  narrow  passages,  and  never 
get  out  of  the  way  to  let  people  pass,  particularly  ladies. 

If  there  happens  to  be  a  scarcity  of  seats,  be  sure  to 
stretch  yourself  at  full  length  upon  a  sopha  or  a  cushion, 
and  if  any  lady  looks  at  you  as  if  she  thought  you  might 
give  her  a  place,  give  her  another  look  as  much  as  to 
say,  "  I'll  see  you  hanged  first." 

If  the  weather  is  cold  get  directly  before  the  stove, 
turn  your  back,  and  open  the  skirts  of  your  coat  behind 
as  wide  as  possible,  that  the  fire  may  have  fair  play. 

If  you  happen  to  be  better  dressed  than  your  neighbour, 
look  at  him  with  an  air  of  superiority  ;  and  dont  hear 
him  if  he  has  the  impudence  to  speak  to  you.  If  it  is 
your  ill  fortune  to  be  dressed  not  so  well,  employ  a 
tailor  as  soon  as  possible  to  remedy  the  inferiority. 

Be  sure  to  pay  your  passage,  if  you  have  any  money.- 
If  you  have  none,  go  to  sleep  in  some  out  of  the  way 
corner,  and  dont  wake  till  the  last  trumpet  blows. 

Dont  pay  any  attention  to  the  notification  that  "  no 

smoking  is  allowed  abaft  the  wheel ;"  but  strut  about 

the  quarter  deck,  and  the  upper  gallery,  among  the 

ladies  with  a  segar  on  all  occasions.     There  are  so 

S* 


90 

many  ignorant  people  that  smoke  on  board  steam  boats, 
that  it  will  naturally  be  supposed  you  cant  read,  and 
of  course  dont  know  of  the  prohibition.  If  you  can 
get  to  the  windward  of  a  lady  or  two,  so  much  the 
better. 

Whenever  you  are  on  deck  by  day,  be  sure  to  have 
this  book  in  your  hand,  and  instead  of  boring  yourself 
with  the  scenery,  read  the  descriptions  which  will  be 
found  infinitely  superior  to  any  of  the  clumsy  produc 
tions  of  nature. 

N.  B.  These  rules  apply  exclusively  to  gentlemen., 
the  ladies  being  allowed  the  liberty  of  doing  as  they 
please,  in  all  respects  except  six. 

They  are  not  permitted  to  eat  beef  steaks  and  mut 
ton  chops  at  breakfast,  unless  they  can  prove  them 
selves  past  fifty. 

They  must  not  sit  at  table  more  than  an  hour,  unless 
they  wish  to  be  counted  hungry,  which  no  lady  ought 
ever  to  be. 

They  must  not  talk  so  loud  as  to  drown  the  noise  of 
the  engine,  unless  their  voices  are  particularly  sweet. 

They  must  not  enact  the  turtle  dove  before  all  the 
company,  unless  they  cant  help  it. 

They  must  not  jump  overboard,  at  every  little  noise 
of  the  machinery. 

They  must  not  be  always  laughing,  except  they  have 
very  white  teeth. 

With  these  exceptions,  they  may  say  and  do  just  what 
they  like,  in  spite  of  papa  and  mama,  for  this  is  a  free 
country. 


91 


PASSAGE  UP  THE  HUDSON. 

"  This  magnificent  river,*  which  taking  it  in  all  its 
combinations  of  magnitude  and  beauty,  is  scarcely 
equalled  in  the  new,  and  not  even  approached  in  the 
old  world,  was  discovered  by  Hendrick  Hudson  in  the 
month  of  September,  1609,  by  accident,  as  almost  every 
other  discovery  has  been  made.  He  was  searching  for 
a  northwest  passage  to  India,  when  he  first  entered  the 
bay  of  New  York,  and  imagined  the  possibility  that  he 
had  here  found  it,  until  on  exploring  the  river  upwards, 
he  came  to  fresh  water,  ran  aground,  and  abandoned 
his  hopes. 

"  Of  this  man,  whose  name  is  thus  identified  with  the 
discovery,  the  growth,  and  the  future  prospects  of  a 
mighty  state,  little  is  known ;  and  of  that  little  the  end 
is  indescribably  melancholy.  He  made  four  voyages  in 
search  of  this  imaginary  northwest  passage,  and  the 
termination  of  the  last  is  in  the  highest  degree  affecting, 
as  related  in  the  following  extract  from  his  Journal, 
as  published  in  the  collections  of  the  New  York  Histo 
rical  Society." 

"  You  shall  understand,"  says  Master  Abacuk  Pricket, 
from  whose  Journal  this  is  taken,  "  that  our  master 
kept  in  his  house  in  London,  a  young  man  named  Hen- 
rie  Greene,  borne  in  Kent,  of  worshipfull  parents,  but  by 
his  lewd  life  and  conversation  hee  lost  the  good  will  of 
all  his  friends,  and  spent  all  that  hee  had.  This  man  our 
master  (Hudson)  would  have  to  sea  with  him,  because 
hee  could  write  well :  our  master  gave  him  meate,  and 

<:  We  quote  from  the  unpublished  ana  of  Alderman  Janson. 


92 

drinke  and  lodgeing,  and  by  means  of  one  Master 
Venson,  with  much  ado  got  four  pounds  of  his  mother 
to  buy  him  clothes,  wherewith  Master  Venson  would 
not  trust  him,  but  saw  it  laid  out  himself.  This  Henry 
Greene  was  not  set  down  in  the  owners'  bookes,  nor 
any  wages  made  for  him.  Hee  came  first  on  board  at, 
Gravesend,  and  at  Harwich  should  have  gone  into  the 
field  with  one  Wilkinson.  At  Island,  the  surgeon  and 
hee  fell  out  in  Dutch,  and  hee  beat  him  ashore  in  Eng 
lish,  which  set  all  the  company  in  a  rage  ;  so  that  wee 
had  much  ado  to  get  the  surgeon  aboarde.  I  told  the 
master  of  it,  but  hee  bade  mee  let  it  alone,  for  (said 
hee,)  the  surgeon  had  a  tongue  that  would  wrong  the 
best  friend  hee  had.  But  Robert  Juet  (the  master's 
mate)  would  needs  burn  his  fingers  in  the  embers,  and 
told  the  carpenter  a  long  tale  (when  hee  was  drunk) 
that  our  master  had  brought  in  Greene  to  worke  his  credit 
that  should  displease  him  ;  which  words  came  to  the 
master's  eares,  who  when  he  understood  it  would  have 
gone  back  to  Island,  when  he  was  forty  degrees  from 
thence,  to  have  sent  home  his  mate,  Robert  Juet,  in  a 
fisherman.  But  being  otherwise  persuaded,  all  was 
well.  So  Henry  Greene  stood  upright  and  very  inward 
with  the  master,  and  was  a  serviceable  man  every  way 
for  manhood :  but  for  religion,  he  would  say  he  was 
cleane  paper  whereon  he  might  write  what  hee  would. 
Now  when  our  gunner  was  dead,  (and  as  the  order  is  in 
such  cases)  if  the  company  stand  in  need  of  any  thing 
that  belonged  to  the  man  deceased,  then  it  is  brought  to 
the  mayne  mast,  and  there  sold  to  him  that  will  give 
most  for  the  same.  This  gunner  had  a  graye  cloth 


93 

gowne  which  Greene  prayed  the  master  to  friend  him  so 
much  to  let  him  have  it,  paying  for  it  as  another  would 
give.  The  master  saith  he  should,  and  therefore  he  an 
swered  some  that  sought  to  have  it,  that  Greene  should 
have  it,  and  none  else,  and  so  it  rested. 

"  Now  out  of  season  and  time  the  master  calleth  the 
carpenter  to  go  in  hand  with  a  house  onshore,  which  at  the 
beginning  our  master  would  not  heare  when  it  might  have 
been  done.  The  carpenter  told  him  that  the  snow  and  frost 
were  such,  as  he  neither  could  or  would  go  in  hand  with 
surh  worke.  Which  when  our  master  heard,  he  ferret- 
ted  him  out  of  his  cabbin,  to  strike  him,  calling  him  by 
many  foule  names,  and  threatening  to  hang  him.  The 
carpenter  told  him  that  hee  knew  what  belonged  to  his 
place  better  than  himselfe,  and  that  hee  was  no  house 
carpenter.  So  this  passed,  and  the  house  was  (after) 
made  with  much  labour,  but  to  no  end. 

"  The  next  day  after  the  master  and  the  carpenter 
fell  out,  the  carpenter  took  his  peece  and  Henry  Greene 
with  him,  for  it  was  an  order  that  none  should  go  oui 
alone,  but  one  with  a  peece,  and  the  other  with  a  pike. 
This  did  moove  the  master  so  much  the  more  against 
Henry  Greene,  that  Robert  Billet,  his  mate,  must  have 
the  gowne,  and  had  it  delivered  to  him  ;  which  when 
Henry  Greene  saw  he  challenged  the  master's  promise ; 
but  the  master  did  so  raile  on  Greene  with  so  many 
words  of  disgrace,  telling  him  that  all  his  friends  would 
not  trust  him  with  twenty  shillings,  arid  therefore  why 
should  hee  1  As  for  wages  hee  had  none,  nor  none 
should  have  if  he  did  not  please  him  well.  Yet  the 
master  had  promised  him  to  make  his  wages  as  good  as 


94 

any  man's  in  the  ship ;  and  to  have  him  one  of  the 
prince's  guard  when  he  came  home.  But  you  shall  see 
how  the  devil  out  of  this  so  wrought  with  Greene,  that 
hee  did  the  master  what  mischiefe  hee  could  in  seek 
ing  to  discredit  him,  and  to  thrust  him  and  many  other 
honest  men  out  of  the  ship  in  the  end." 

It  appears  that  Greene  having  come  to  an  under 
standing  with  others  whom  he  had  corrupted,  a  plot  was 
laid  to  seize  Hudson  and  those  of  the  crew  that  remain 
ed  faithful  to  him,  put  them  on  board  a  small  shallop 
which  was  used  in  making  excursions  for  food  or  ob 
servations,  and  run  away  with  the  ship.  Of  the  manner 
in  which  this  was  consummated  the  same  writer  gives 
the  following  relation : 

"  Being  thus  in  the  ice  on  Saturday  the  one  and 
twentieth  day  of  June,  (1610,)  at  night  Wilson  the 
boatswayne  and  Henry  Greene  came  to  mee  lying  in  my 
cabbin  lame,  and  told  me  that  they  and  the  rest  of  their 
associates  would  shift  the  company  and  turne  the  mas 
ter  and  all  the  sick  men  into  the  shallop,  and  let  them 
shift  for  themselves.  For  there  was  not  fourteen  daies 
victuals  left  for  all  the  company,  at  that  poor  allowance 
they  were  at,  and  that  there  they  lay,  the  master  not 
caring  to  goe  one  way  or  other  :  and  that  they  had  not 
eaten  any  thing  these  three  dayes,  and  therefore  were 
resolute  either  to  mend  or  end,  and  what  they  had  be 
gun  would  go  through  with  it,  or  dye."  Pricket  refuses 
and  expostulates  with  Wilson  and  Greene.  "  Henry 
Greene  then  told  me  I  must  take  my  chance  in  the 
shallop.  If  there  be  no  remedy,  (said  I,)  the  will  of 
God  be  clone."  Pricket  tries  to  persuade  them  to  put 


95 

off  their  design  for  two  days,  nay  for  twelve  hours,  that 
he  might  persuade  Hudson  to  return  home  with  the 
ship  ;  but,  to  this  they  would  not  consent,  and  proceed 
ed  to  execute  their  plot  as  follows  : 

"  In  the  mean  time,  Henry  Greene  and  another 
went  to  the  carpenter,  and  held  him  with  a  talke  till  the 
master  (Hudson)  came  out -of  his  cabbin  ;  (which  he 
soon  did  ; )  then  came  John  Thomas  and  Bennett  be 
fore  him,  while  Wilson  bound  his  arms  behind  him. 
He  asked  them  what  they  meant  ?  They  told  him  he 
should  know  when  he  was  in  the  shallop.  Now  Juet 
while  this  was  doing,  came  to  John  King  into  the  hold, 
who  was  provided  for  him,  for  he  had  got  a  sword  of 
his  own  and  kept  him  at  bay,  and  might  have  killed  him, 
but  others  came  to  help  him,  and  so  he  came  up  to  the 
master.  The  master  called  to  the  carpenter  and  told 
him  he  was  bound ;  but  I  heard  no  answer  he  made. 
Now  Arnold  Lodlo  and  Michael  Bute  rayled  at  them, 
and  told  them  their  knaverie  would  shewe  itselfe.  Then 
was  the  shallop  haled  up~to  the  ship's  side,  and  the 
poore  sick  and  lame  men  were  called  upon  to  get  them 
out  of  their  cabbins  into  the  shallop.  The  master  called 
to  mee,  who  came  out  of  my  cabbin  as  well  as  I  could 
to  the  hatch  waye  to  speak  to  him  :  where  on  my  knees, 
I  besought  them  for  the  love  of  God  to  remember  them 
selves,  and  to  doe  as  they  would  be  done  unto.  They 
bade  me  keepe  myselfe  well,  and  get  me  into  my  cab- 
bin,  not  suffering  the  master  to  speake  to  me.  But 
when  I  came  into  my  cabbin,  againe  he  called  to  me  at 
the  home  that  gave  light  into  my  cabbin,  and  told  me 


96 

that  Juet  would  overthrow  us  all.  Nay,  says  I,  it  is 
that  villaine  Henry  Greene,  and  I  spake  it  not  softly. 

"  Now  were  all  the  poore  men  in  the  shallop,  whose 
names  are  as  followeth :  Henrie  Hudson,  John  Hudson, 
Arnold  Lodlo,  Sidrach  Faner,  Phillip  StafTe,  Thomas 
Woodhouse,  (or  Wydhouse,)  Adam  Moore,  Henrie 
King,  and  Michael  Bute.  The  carpenter  got  of  them 
a  peece,  and  powder  and  shot,  and  some  pikes,  an 
iron  pot,  with  some  meale  and  other  things.  They 
stood  out  of  the  ice,  the  shallop  being  fast  to  the  sterne 
of  the  shippe,  and  so  when  they  were  nigh  out,  for  I 
cannot  say  they  were  cleane  out,  they  cut  her  head  fast 
from  the  sterne  of  the  ship,  then  out  with  theire  top- 
sayles,  and  towards  the  east  they  stood  in  a  cleare 
sea." 

The  mutineers  being  on  shore,  some  days  after,  were 
attacked  by  a  party  of  indians. 

"  John  Thomas  and  William  Wilson  had  their  bowels 
cut,  and  Michael  Pearce  and  Henry  Greene  being  mor 
tally  wounded,  came  tumbling  in  the  boat  together. 
When  Andrew  Moter  saw  this  medley,  hee  came  run 
ning  down  the  rockes,  and  leaped  into  the  sea,  and  soe 
swamme  to  the  boat,  hanging  on  the  sterne  thereof,  till 
Michael  Pearce  took  him  in,  who  manfully  made  good 
the  head  of  the  boat  against  the  savages  that  pressed 
sore  upon  us.  Now  Michael  Pearce  had  got  an 
hatchet,  wherewith  I  saw  him  strike  one  of  them,  that 
he  lay  sprawling  in  the  sea.  Henry  Greene  crieth  cora- 
gio,  and  layeth  about  him  with  his  truncheon.  The 
savages  betook  themselves  to  their  bowes  and  arrows 
which  they  sent  among  us,  wherewith  Henry  Greene 


97 

was  slaine  outright,  and  Michael  Pearce  received  many 
wounds,  and  so  did  the  rest.  Michael  Pearce  and 
Andrew  Moter  rowed  the  boat  away,  which  when  the 
savages  saw  they  ranne  to  their  boats,  and  I  feared  they 
would  have  launched  them  to  have  followed  us,  but  they 
did  not,  and  our  shipswas  in  the  middle  of  the  channel, 
and  did  not  see  us. 

"  Now  when  they  had  rowed  a  good  way  from  the 
shore,  Michael  Pearce  fainted  and  could  row  no  more. 
Then  was  Andrew  Moter  driven  to  stand  in  the  boat's 
head  and  waft  to  the  ship,  which  at  the  first  saw  us  not, 
and  when  they  did,  they  could  not  tell  what  to  make  of 
us  ;  but  in  the  end  they  stood  for  us,  and  so  took  us  up. 
Henry  Greene  was  thrown  out  of  the  boat  into  the  sea, 
and  the  rest  were  had  on  board.  But  they  died  all 
three  that  day,  William  Wilson  swearing  and  cursing  in 
the  most  fearful  manner.  Michael  Pearce  lived  two 
days  after  and  then  died.  Thus  you  have  heard  the 
tragicale  of  Henry  Greene  and  his  mates,  whom  they 
called  the  captaine,  these  four  being  the  only  lustie  men 
in  all  the  ship." 

After  this,  Robert  Juet  took  the  command,  but  "  died 
for  meere  want,"  before  they  arrived  at  Plymouth, 
which  is  the  last  we  hear  of  them,  except  that  Pricket 
was  taken  up  to  London  to  Sir  Thomas  Smith.  Nei 
ther  was  the  unfortunate  Hudson  and  his  companions 
ever  heard  of  more.  Doubtless  they  perished  misera 
bly,  by  famine,  cold,  or  savage  cruelty.  The  mighty 
river  which  he  first  explored,  and  the  great  bay  to  the 
north,  alone  by  bearing  his  name,  carry  his  memory, 
and  will  continue  to  carry  it  down  to  the  latest  posterity. 

9 


98 

We  thought  we  could  do  no  less  than  call  the  attention 
of  the  traveller  a  few  moments,  to  the  hard  fate  of  one 
to  whom  they  are  originally  indebted,  for  much  of  the 
pleasures  of  the  tour  to  the  springs. 

After  the  traveller  has  paid  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
honest  Henry  Hudson,  by  reading  the  preceding  sketch 
of  his  melancholy  end,  he  may  indulge  himself  in  con 
templating  the  beautiful  world  expanding  every  moment 
before  him,  appearing  and  vanishing  in  the  rapidity  of 
his  motion,  like  the  creations  of  the  imagination.  Every 
object  is  beautiful,  and  its  beauties  heightened  by  the 
eye  having  no  time  to  be  palled  with  contemplating 
them  too  long.  Nature  seems  in  merry  motion  hurrying 
by,  and  as  she  moves  along  displays  a  thousand  varied 
charms  in  rapid  succession,  each  one  more  enchanting 
than  the  rest.  If  the  traveller  casts  his  eyes  backwards, 
he  beholds  the  long  perspective  waters  gradually  con 
verging  to  a  point  at  the  Narrows,  fringed  with  the  low 
soft  scenery  of  Jersey  and  Long  Island,  and  crowned 
with  the  little  buoyant  islands  on  its  bosom.  If  he  looks 
before  him,  on  one  side  the  picturesque  shore  of  Jersey, 
its  rich  strip  of  meadows  and  orchards,  sometimes  back 
ed  by  the  wood  crowned  hills,  and  at  others  by  perpen 
dicular  walls  of  solid  rock ;  on  the  other,  York  Island 
with  its  thousand  little  palaces,  sporting  its  green  fields 
and  waving  woods,  by  turns  allure  his  attention,  and 
make  him  wish  either  that  the  river  had  but  one  side,  or 
that  he  had  more  eyes  to  admire  its  beauties. 

As  the  vessel  wafts  him  merrily,  merrily  along,  new 
beauties  crowd  upon  him  so  rapidly  as  almost  to  efface 
the  impressions  of  the  past.  That  noble  ledge  of  rocks 


99 

which  is  worthy  to  form  the  barrier  of  the  noble  river, 
and  which  extends  for  sixteen  miles,  shows  itself  in  a 
succession  of  sublime  bluffs,  projecting  out  one  after 
the  other,  looking  like  the  fabled  creations  of  the  giants, 
or  the  Cyclops  of  old.  High  on  these  cliffs,  may  be  seen 
the  woodman,  pitching  his  billet  from  the  very  edge 
down  a  precipice  of  hundreds  of  feet,  whence  it  slides 
or  bounds  to  the  water's  edge,  and  is  received  on  board 
its  destined  vessel.  At  other  points,  half  way  up  its 
sides  you  will  see  the  quarriers,  undermining  huge  mass 
es  of  rocks  that  in  the  lapse  of  ages  have  separated 
from  the  cliff  above,  and  setting  them  rolling  down  with 
thundering  crashes  to  the  level  beach  below.  Here  and 
there  under  the  dark  impending  cliff,  where  nature  has 
formed  a  little  green  nook  or  flat,  some  enterprising 
skipper  who  owns  a  little  pettiauger,  or  some  hardy 
quarrrer,  has  erected  his  little  cot.  There  when  the 
afternoon  shadows  envelope  the  rocks,  the  woods  and  the 
shores,  may  be  seen  little  groups  of  children  sporting 
in  all  the  glee  of  youthful  idleness.  Some  setting  their 
little  shaggy  dog  to  swimming  into  the  river  after  a  chip, 
others  worrying  some  patient  pussy,  others  wading 
along  the  white  sands  knee  deep  in  the  waters,  and 
others  perhaps  stopping  to  stare  at  the  moving  wonder 
champing  by,  then  chasing  the  long  ripple  created  by  its 
furious  motion  as  it  breaks  along  the  sands.  Contrast 
ing  beautifully  with  this  long  mural  precipice  on  the 
west,  the  eastern  bank  exhibits  a  charming  variety  of 
waving  outline.  Long  graceful  curving  hills,  sinking  into 
little  vales,  pouring  forth  a  gurgling  brook — then  rising 
:•  i gain  into  wood  crowned  heights,  presenting  the  image  of 


100 

a  mighty  succession  of  waves,  suddenly  arrested  in 
their  rolling  career,  and  turned  into  mingled  woods,  and 
meadows,  and  fertile  fields,  animated  with  all  the  living 
emblems  of  industry ;  cattle,  sheep,  waving  fields  of 
grain,  and  whistling  ploughmen. 

These  precipices  are  said  to  be  of  the  trap  formation, 
a  most  important  species  of  rock  in  geology,  as  whoever 
"  understands  trap,"  may  set  up  for  a  master  of  the  sci 
ence.  In  many  places,  this  trap  formation  is  found  ap 
parently  based  on  a  horizontal  stratum  of  primitive 
rock.  This  has  somewhat  shaken  the  trap  theory  and 
puzzled  geologists.  But  we  leave  them  to  settle  the 
affair,  and  pass  on  to  objects  of  more  importance  to  the 
tourist,  in  a  historical  point  of  view  at  least. 

At  Sneden's  Landing,  opposite  Dobb's  Ferry,  the 
range  of  perpendicular  trap  rocks,  disappears  until  you 
again  detect  it,  opposite  Sing  Sing,  where  it  exhibits 
itself  in  a  most  picturesque  and  beautiful  manner  ?i  in 
tervals,  in  the  raflge  of  mountains  bordering  the  west 
side  of  the  river,  between  Nyack  and  Haverstraw.  At 
Sneden's,  commences  a  vast  expanse  of  salt  meadows, 
generally  so  thickly  studded  with  barracks  and  hay 
stacks,  as  to  present  at  a  distance  the  appearance  of  a 
great  city  rising  out  of  the  famed  Tappan  Sea,  like 
Venice  from  out  the  Adriatic.  Travellers,  who  have 
seen  both,  observe  a  great  similarity — but  on  the  whole 
prefer  the  haystacks.  Here  commences, Tappan  Sea, 
where  the  river  expands  to  a  breadth  of  three  miles,  and 
where  in  the  days  of  log  canoes  and  pine  skiffs,  full 
many  an  adventurous  navigator  is  said  to  have  encoun- 


101 

tered  dreadful  perils  in  crossing  over  from  the  Slote  to 
Tarrytown.  At  present  its  dangers  are  all  traditionary. 

The  western  border  of  this  beautiful  expanse  is 
mountainous  ;  but  the  hills  rise  in  such  gradual  ascent 
that  the  whole  is  cultivated  to  the  very  top,  and  exhibits 
a  charming  display  of  variegated  fields.  That  the  soil 
was  once  rich,  is  established  by  the  fact  of  this  whole 
district  being  settled  by  the  Dutch,  than  whom  there 
never  was  a  people  better  at  smelling  out  rich  vales 
and  fat  alluvions.  Here  the  race  subsists  unadultera 
ted  to  the  present  time.  The  sons  are  cast  in  the  same 
moulds  with  the  father  and  grandfather  ;  the  daughters 
depart  not  from  the  examples  of  their  mothers  and 
grandmothers.  The  former  eschew  the  mysteries  of 
modern  tailoring,  and  the  latter  borrow  not  the  fashion 
of  their  bonnets  from  the  French  milliners.  They 
travel  not  in  steam  boats,  or  in  any  other  new  fangled 
inventions ;  abhor  canals  and  rail  roads,  and  will  go 
five  miles  out  of  the  way  to  avoid  a  turnpike.  They 
mind  nobody's  business  but  their  own,  and  such  is  their 
inveterate  attachment  to  home,  that  it  is  credibly  report 
ed  there  are  men  now  living  along  the  shores  of  the 
river,  who  not  only  have  never  visited  the  renowned 
Tarrytown,  directly  opposite,  but  who  know  not  even 
its  name. 

They  are  deplorably  deficient  in  the  noble  science 
of  gastronomy,  and  such  is  their  utter  barbarity  of  taste^ 
that  they  never  eat  but  when  they  are  hungry,  nor  after 
they  are  satisfied,  and  the  consequence  of  this  barbarous 
indifference  to  the  chief  good  of  life,  is  that  they  one 
and  all  remain  without  those  infallible  patents  of  high 
9* 


102 

breeding,  gout  and  dyspepsia.  Since  the  period  of  the 
first  settlement  of  this  region,  the  only  changes  that 
have  ever  been  known  to  take  place,  are  those  brought 
about  by  death,  who  if  report  says  true  has  sometimes 
had  his  match  with  some  of  these  tough  old  copper 
heads  ;  in  the  aspect  of  the  soil,  which  from  an  intermi 
nable  forest  has  become  a  garden  ;  arid  in  the  size  of 
the  loaves  of  bread,  which  from  five  feet  long  have  dwin 
dled  down  into  the  ordinary  dimensions.  For  this  un 
heard  of  innovation,  they  adduce  in  their  justification 
the  following  undoubted  tradition,  which,  like  their  hats 
and  their  petticoats,  has  descended  down  from  genera 
tion  to  generation  without  changing  a  syllable. 

"  Sometime  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1694,  just  when 
the  woods  were  on  the  change,  Yffrow,  or  Vrouw 
Katrinchee  Van  Noorden,  was  sitting  at  breakfast, 
surrounded  by  her  husband  and  family,  consisting  of  six 
stout  boys,  and  as  many  strapping  girls,  all  dressed  in 
their  best,  for  it  was  of  a  Sunday  morning.  Yrouw  Ka 
trinchee,  had  a  loaf  of  fresh  rye  bread  between  her  knees, 
the  top  of  which  was  about  on  a  line  with  her  throat,  the 
other  end  resting  upon  a  napkin  on  the  floor  ;  and  was 
essaying  with  the  edge  of  a  sharp  knife  to  cut  off  the  up 
per  crust  for  the  youngest  boy,  who  was  the  pet ;  when 
unfortunately  it  recoiled  from  the  said  crust,  and  before 
the  good  Vrouw  had  time  to  consider  the  matter,  sliced 
off  her  head  as  clean  as  a  whistle,  to  the  great  horror  of 
"Mynheer  Van  Noorden,  who  actually  stopt  eating  his 
breakfast.  This  awful  catastrophe,  brought  the  big 
loaves  into  disrepute,  but  such  was  their  attachment  to 
good  old  customs,  that  it  was  not  until  Domine  Koont- 


103 

zie  denounced  them  as  against  the  law  and  the  pro 
phets,  that  they  could  be  brought  to  give  them  up. 
As  it  is,  the  posterity  of  the  Van  Noordens  to  this  day 
keep  up  the  baking  of  big  loaves,  in  conformity  to  the 
last  will  and  testament  of  their  ancestor,  who  decreed 
that  this  event  should  be  thus  preserved  immortal  in 
his  family."* 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  snugly  nestling  in  a 
little  bay,  lies  Tarrytown,  famous  for  its  vicinity  to  the 
spot  where  the  British  spy,  Andre,  was  intercepted 
by  the  three  honest  lads  of  Westchester.  If  the  curious 
traveller  is  inclined  to  stop  and  view  this  spot,  to  which 
a  romantic  interest  will  ever  be  attached,  the  following 
directions  will  suffice. 

"  Landing  at  Tarrytown,!  it  is  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  to  the  post  road,  at  Smith's  tavern.  Following  the 
post  road  due  north,  about  half  a  mile,  you  come  to  a 
little  bridge  over  a  small  stream,  known  by  the  name  of 
Clark's  Kill,  and  sometimes  almost  dry.  Formerly  the 
wood  on  the  left  hand  south  of  the  bridge,  approached 
close  to  the  road,  and  there  was  a  bank  on  the  opposite 
side,  which  was  steep  enough  to  pr.event  escape  on 
horseback  that  way.  The  road  from  the  north,  as  it 
approaches  the  bridge,  is  narrowed  between  two  banks  of 
six  or  eight  feet  high,  and  makes  an  angle  just  before  it 
reaches  it.  Here,  close  within  the  copse  of  wood  on 
the  left,  as  you  approach  from  the  village,  the  three 
militia  lads,  for  lads  they  were,  being  hardly  one  and 
twenty,  concealed  themselves,  to  wait  for  a  suspicious 

*  We  quote  from  the  manuscript  ana  of  Alderman  Janson,  to  which 
we  shall  frequently  refer  in  the  course  of  this  work, 
f  Vide  ana  of  Alderman  Janson. 


104 

stranger,  of  whom  they  had  notice  from  a  Mrs.  Read,  at 
whose  house  they  had  stopt  on  their  way  towards  Kings- 
bridge.  A  Mr.  Talmadge,  a  revolutionary  officer,  and 
a  member  of  the  house  of  representatives,  some  years 
since  took  occasion  to  stigmatize  these  young  men,  as 
Cow  Boys,  out  on  a  plundering  expedition.  The  imputa 
tion  was  false  ;  they  were  in  possession  of  passes  from 
General  Philip  Van  Courtlandt,  to  proceed  beyond  the 
lines,  as  they  were  called,  and  of  course  by  the  laws  of 
war,  authorized  to  be  where  they  were. 

"  As  Major  Andre  approached,  according  to  the 
universal  tradition  among  the  old  people  of  Westchester, 
John  Paulding,  darted  out  upon  him  and  seized  his 
horse's  bridle.  Andre  was  exceedingly  startled  at  the 
suddenness  of  this  rencontre,  and  in  a  moment  of  un 
guarded  surprise,  exclaimed — *  Where  do  you  belong  1' 

"  ;  Below,'  was  the  reply,  which  was  the  phrase  com 
monly  used  to  designate  the  British,  who  were  then  in 
possession  of  New  York. 

"  l  So  do  I,'  was  the  rejoinder  of  Andre  in  the  joyful 
surprise  of  the  moment.  It  has  been  surmised  that  this 
hasty  admission  sealed  his  fate.  But  when  we  reflect  that 
he  was  suspected  before,  and  that  afterwards  not  even  the 
production  of  his  pass  from  General  Arnold,  could  prevail 
upon  the  young  men  to  let  him  go,  it  will  appear  sufficiently 
probable  that  this  imprudent  avowral  was  not  the  original 
cause  of  his  being  detained  and  searched.  After  some 
discussion  and  exhibiting  his  pass,  he  was  taken  into  the 
wood,  and  searched,  not  without  a  good  deal  of  unwil 
lingness  on  his  part ;  it  is  said  he  particularly  resisted 
the  pulling  off  his  right  boot,  which  contained  the 


105 

treasonable  documents.  When  these  were  discovered, 
it  is  also  said,  Andre  unguardedly  exclaimed, '  Pm  lost !' 
but  presently  recollecting  himself,  he  added,  *  No  mat 
ter — they  dare  not  hang  me.' 

"  Finding  himself  discovered,  Andre  offered  his 
gold  watch  and  a  purse  of  guineas  for  his  release. 
These  were  rejected.  He  then  proposed  that  they 
should  take  and  secrete  him,  while  one  of  the  party  car 
ried  a  letter,  which  he  would  write  in  their  presence,  to 
Sir  Henry  Clinton,  naming  the  ransom  necessary  to  his 
discharge,  and  which  they  might  themselves  specify, 
pledging  his  honour  that  it  should  accompany  their  asso 
ciate  on  his  return.  To  this  they  likewise  refused  their 
assent.  Andre  then  threatened  them  with  a  severe 
punishment  for  daring  to  disregard  a  pass  from  the  com 
manding  general  at  West  Point ;  and  bade  them  beware 
of  carrying  him  to  head  quarters,  for  they  would  only 
be  tried  by  a  court  martial  and  punished  for  mutiny. 
Still  the  firmness  of  these  young  men  sustained  them 
against  all  these  threats  and  temptations,  and  they 
finally  delivered  him  to  Colonel  Jameson.  It  is  no  incon 
siderable  testimony  to  the  motives  and  temptations  thus 
overcome,  that  ColonelJamesonfan  officer  of  the  regular 
army,  commanding  a  point  of  great  consequence,  so  far 
yielded  to  the  production  of  this  pass,  as  to  permit 
Andre  to  write  to  General  Arnold  a  letter,  which  enabled 
that  traitor  to  escape  the  ignominious  fate  he  deserved. 

"  While  in  custody  of  the  three  Westchester  volun 
teers,  Andre  is  said  gradually  to  have  recovered  from 
his  depression  of  spirits,  so  as  to  sit  with  them  after 
supper,  and  chat  about  himself  and  his  situation,  still 


106 

preserving  his  incognito  of  John  Anderson.  In  the 
course  of  the  evening  which  he  passed  in  their  company, 
he  related  the  following  singular  little  anecdote.  It 
seems  the  evening  before  he  left  London  to  embark  for 
America,  he  was  in  company  with  some  young  ladies 
of  his  familiar  acquaintance,  when  it  was  proposed,  that 
as  he  was  going  to  a  distant  country  on  a  perilous  ser 
vice,  he  should  have  his  fortune  told  by  a  famous  sybil, 
at  that  time  fashionable  in  town,  in  order  that  his  friends 
might  know  what  had  become  of  him  while  away.  They 
went  accordingly,  when  the  old  beldam,  after  the  usual 
grimace  and  cant,  on  examining  his  palms,  gravely  an 
nounced,  *  That  he  was  going  a  great  distance,  and 
would  either  be  hanged,  or  come  very  near  it,  before  he 
returned.'  All  the  company  laughed  at  this  awful  an 
nunciation,  and  joked  with  him  on  the  way  back.  *  But,' 
added  Andre,  smiling,  *  I  seem  in  a  fair  way  of  fulfilling 
the  prophecy.' 

"  It  was  not  till  Andre  arrived  at  head  quarters, 
and  concealment  became  no  longer  possible,  that  he 
wrote  the  famous  letter  to  G-eneral  Washington,  avow 
ing  his  name  and  rank.  He  was  tried  by  a  court  mar 
tial,  found  guilty  on  his  own  confession,  was  hanged  at 
Tappan,  where  he  met  his  fate  with  dignity,  and  excited 
in  the  bosoms  of  the  Americans  that  sympathy  as  a 
criminal,  which  has  since  been  challenged  for  him  as  a 
hero  and  a  martyr.  A  few  years  since  the  British  con 
sul  at  New  York,  caused  his  remains  to  be  disinterred 
and  sent  to  England,  where  to  perpetuate  if  possible  the 
delusion  of  his  having  suffered  in  an  honourable  enter- 
prize,  they  were  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  among 


107 

heroes,  statesmen,  and  poets.  The  thanks  of  congress, 
with  a  medal,  an  annuity,  and  a  farm,  were  bestowed  on 
the  three  young  volunteers,  and  lately  a  handsome  monu 
ment  has  been  erected  by  the  corporation  of  New  York, 
to  John  Paulding,  at  Peekskill,  where  his  body  was 
buried.  The  other  two,  Isaac  Van  Wart  and  David 
Williams,  still  survive. 

"  About  half  a  quarter  of  a  mile  south  of  Clark's  Kill 
Bridge,  on  the  high  road,  formerly  stood  the  great  tulip, 
or  whitewood  tree,  which  being  the  most  conspicuous 
object  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  has  been  usually  de 
signated  as  the  spot  where  Andre  was  taken  and  search 
ed.  It  was  one  of  the  most  magnificent  of  trees,  one 
hundred  and  eleven  feet  and  a  half  high,  the  limbs  pro 
jecting  on  either  side  more  than  eighty  feet  from  the 
trunk,  which  was  ten  paces  round.  More  than  twenty 
years  ago  it  was  struck  by  lightning,  and  its  old  weather 
beaten  trunk  so  shivered  that  it  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
it  was  remarked  by  the  old  people,  that  on  the  very 
same  day,  they  for  the  first  time  read  in  the  newspapers 
the  death  of  Arnold.  Arnold  lived  in  England  on  a 
pension,  which  we  believe  is  still  continued  to  his  chil 
dren.  His  name  was  always  coupled  even  therewith  in 
famy  ;  insomuch  that  when  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  Lord 
Shelburne,  and  other  violent  opponents  of  the  American 
revolutionary  war,  were  appointed  to  office,  the  late  Duke 
of  Lauderdale  remarked,  that '  If  the  king  wished  to  em 
ploy  traitors,  he  wondered  that  he  should  have  over 
looked  Benedict  Arnold.'  For  this  he  was  called  out 
by  Arnold,  and  they  exchanged  shots,  but  without  effect. 
Since  then  we  know  nothing  of  Arnold's  history,  till  his 


108 

death.  He  died  as  he  lived  the  latter  years  of  his 
life,  an  object  of  detestation  to  his  countrymen,  of 
contempt  to  the  rest  of  the  world. 

"  There  is  a  romantic  interest  attached  to  the  incidents 
just  recorded,  which  will  always  make  the  capture  of 
Andre  a  popular  story  ;  and  the  time  will  come  when  it 
will  be  chosen  as  the  subject  of  poetry  and  the  drama, 
as  it  has  been  of  history  and  tradition.  There  is  already 
a  play  founded  upon  it  by  Mr.  William  Dunlap,  the  writer 
and  translator  of  many  dramatic  works.  Mr.  Dunlap 
has  however  we  think  committed  a  mistake,  in  which 
however  he  is  countenanced  by  most  other  writers — that 
of  making  Andre  his  hero.  There  is  also  extant  a  his 
tory  of  the  whole  affair,  written  by  Joshua  Hett  Smith, 
the  person  who  accompanied  Andre  across  the  river  from 
Havers traw,  and  whose  memory  is  still  in  some  measure 
implicated  in  the  treason  of  A  mold  It  is  written  with 
much  passion  and.  prejudice,  and  abounds  in  toryisms. 
Neither  Washington,  Greene,  nor  any  of  the  members 
of  the  court  martial  escape  the  most  degrading  imputa 
tions  :  and  the  three  young  men  who  captured  Andre  are 
stigmatized  with  cowardice,  as  well  as  treachery  !  The 
history  is  the  production  of  a  man,  who  seems  to  have 
had  but  one  object,  that  of  stigmatizing  the  characters 
of  others,  with  a  view  of  bolstering  up  his  own.  Wash 
ington  and  Greene  require  no  guardians  to  defend  their 
memory,  at  one  time  assailed  by  women  and  dotards, 
on  the  score  of  having,  the  one  presided  at  the  just  con 
demnation  of  a  spy  ;  the  other  of  having  refused  his  par 
don  to  the  threats  and  bullyings  of  the  enemy.  The  re 
putations  of  the  three  young  captors  of  Andre  have  also 


109 

been  attacked,  where  one  would  least  of  all  expect  it — - 
in  the  congress  of  the  United  States,  where  some  years 
ago  an  honourable  member,  denounced  them  as  Cow 
Boys  ;  and  declared  to  the  house  that  Major  Andre  had 
assured  him,  he  would  have  been  released,  could  he  have 
made  good  his  promises  of  great  reward  from  Sir  Henry 
Clinton.  The  characters  of  these  men,  were  triumphant 
ly  vindicated  by  the  publication  of  the  testimony  of  nearly 
all  the  aged  inhabitants  of  Westchester  who  bore  ample 
testimony  to  the  purity  of  their  lives  and  the  patriotism  of 
their  motives.  The  slander  is  forgotten,  and  if  its  author 
be  hereafter  remembered,  no  one  will  envy  him  his  re 
putation." 

Tarrytown  is  still  farther  distinguished,  by  being  within 
a  mile  or  two  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  the  scene  of  a  pleasant 
legend  of  our  friend  GoefFrey  Crayon,  with  whom  in  days 
long  past  we  have  often  explored  this  pleasant  valley, 
fishing  along  the  brooks,  though  he  was  beyond  all  ques 
tion  the  worst  fisherman  we  ever  knew.  He  had  not  the 
patience  of  Job's  wife — :and  without  patience  no  man  can 
be  a  philosopher  or  a  fisherman. 

SING  SING. 

Sing  Sing  is  a  pleasant  village,  on  the  west  side  of  the 
river,  about  six  miles  above  Tarrytown.  It  is  a  very 
musical  place  (as  its  name  imports,)  as  all  the  birds  sing 
charmingly  ;  and  is  blessed  with  a  pure  air,  and  delight 
ful  prospects.  There  is  a  silver  mine  a  couple  of  hun 
dred  yards  from  the  village,  to  which  we  recommend  the 
adventurers  in  the  South  American  and  North  Carolinian 
10 


110 

mines  to  turn  their  attention.  They  will  certainly  lose 
money  by  working  it,  but  the  money  will  be  spent  at 
home  and  the  village  will  benefit  by  their  patriotism.  If 
they  get  ruined,  there  is  a  stater  prison  close  by  where 
they  will  find  an  asylum.  There  is  an  old  lady  living 
in  the  neighbourhood,  who  recollects  hearing  her  father 
say,  that  he  had  once  before  the  revolutionary  war,  been 
concerned  in  this  mine,  and  there  is  a  sixpence  still  pre 
served  in  the  family,  coined  from  its  produce,  that  only 
cost  him  two  hundred  pounds.  There  is  a  new  state 
prison  building  here,  from  marble  procured  on  the  spot, 
in  which  the  doleful  experiment  of  solitary  confinement 
is  to  be  tried.  It  will  not  do.  It  will  only  be  substitu 
ting  lingering  torments  for  those  of  sudden  death.  With 
out  society,  without  books,  without  employment,  without 
anticipations,  and  without  the  recollection  of  any  thing 
but  crimes,  madness  or  death  must  be  the  consequence 
of  a  protracted  seclusion  of  this  sort.  A  few  days  will 
be  an  insufficient  lesson,  and  a  few  months  would  be 
worse  than  death — madness  or  idiotism.  It  is  a  fashion 
able  Sunday  excursion  with  a  certain  class  of  idlers  in 
New  York,  to  visit  this  prison  in  the  steam  boat.  It  is 
like  going  to  look  at  their  lodgings  before  they  are  finish 
ed.  Some  of  them  will  get  there  if  they  dont  mind.  Af 
ter  all^  we  think  those  philanthropists  are  in  the  right  who 
are  for  abolishing  the  criminal  code  entirely,  and  relying 
on  the  improved  spirit  of  the  age  and  the  progress  of 
moral  feeling. 

Three  or  four  miles  east  of  Sing  Sing,  is  the  CHAPPA- 
auA  SPRING,  which  at  one  time  came  very  nigh  getting 
the  better  of  Ballston,  Saratoga  and  Harrowgate,  for  it 


Ill 

is  a  fact  well  authenticated  that  one  or  two  persons  of 
good  fashion  came  very  near  to  be  cured  of  that  incura 
ble  disease  called  "  I  dont  know  what,"  by  drinking  these 
waters.  Upon  the  strength  of  this,  some  "  public  spirit 
ed  individuals"  erected  a  great  hotel  for  the  public  ac 
commodation;  We  wish  we  knew  their  names,  a? 
we  look  upon  every  man  who  builds  a  tavern,  as  a 
public  benefactor,  upon  the  authority  of  the  famous  prize 
poet,  heretofore  quoted,  who  says — 

"  Thrice  happy  land  !  to  glorious  fates  a  prey, 
Where  taverns  multiply,  and  cots  decay  ! 
And  happy  they,  the  happiest  of  their  kind, 
Who  ease  and  freedom  in  a  tavern  find ! 
No  household  cares  molest  the  chosen  man 
Who  at  the  tavern  tosses  off  his  can, 
Who  far  from  all  the  irksome  cares  of  life, 
And  most  of  all  that  care  of  cares,  a  wife, 
Lives  free  and  easy,  all  the  livelong  year, 
And  dies  without  the  tribute  of  a  tear, 
Save  from  some  Boniface's  bloodshot  eye, 
Who  grieves  that  such  a  liberal  soul  should  die, 
And  on  that '  Canongate  of  Chronicles,'  the  door,  . 
Leave  such  a  long  unliquidated  score." 


POINT  NO  POINT. 

Dkectly  opposite  to  Sing  Sing  is  Point  no  Point,  a 
singular  range  of  highlands  of  the  trap  formation,  which 
ure  extremely  apt  to  deceive  the  traveller  who  dont 
%<  understand  trap"  as  the  geologists  say.  In  sailing 
along  up  the  river,  a  point  of  land  appears  at  all  times, 
{except  in  a  dense  fog  or  a  dark  night,  when  we  advise 


112 

the  reader  not  to  look  out  for  it,)  projecting  far  into  the 
river.  On  arriving  opposite,  it  seems  to  recede,  and  to 
appear,  again  a  little  beyond.  Some  travellers  compare, 
this  Point  no  Point,  to  a  great  metaphysician,  who  rea 
sons  through  a  whole  quarto,  without  coming  to  a  con 
clusion.  Others  liken  it  to  the  great  Dr. who 

plays  round  his  subject  like  children  round  a  bonfire,  but 
never  ventures  too  near,  lest  he  should  catch  it,  and  be 
like  burn  his  fingers.  Others  again  approximate  it,  to 
the  speech  of  a  member  of  congress,  which  always 
seems  coming  to  the  point,  but  never  arrives  at  it. 
The  happiest  similitude  however  in  our  opinion,  was 
that  of  a  young  lady,  who  compared  a  dangling  dandy 
admirer  of  hers,  to  Point  no  Point,  "  Because,"  said  she, 
"  he  is  always  pointing  to  his  gamer  but  never  makes  a 
dead  point." 

If  the  traveller  should  happen  to  go  ashore  here,  by 
following  the  road  from  Slaughter's  Landing,  up  the 
mountain  about  half  a  mile,  he  will  come  suddenly  upon 
a  beautiful  sheet  of  pure  water  nine  miles  in  circum 
ference,  called  Snedecker's  Lake,  a  name  abhorred  of 
Poetry  and  the  Nine.  The  southern  extremity  is  bound 
ed  by  a  steep  pine  clad  mountain,  which  dashes  head 
long  down  almost  perpendicularly  into  the  bosom  of  the 
lake,  while  all  the  other  portions  of  its  graceful  circle 
are  rich  in  cultivated  rural  beauties.  The  Brothers  of 
the  Angle  may  here  find  pleasant  sport,  and  peradven- 
ture  catch  a  pike,  the  noblest  of  all  fishes,  because  he 
has  the  noblest  appetite.  Alas ! — how  is  the  pride  of 
human  reason,  mortified  at  the  thought,  that  a  pike  not 
one  tenth  the  bulk  of  a  common  sized  man,  can  eat  as 


113 

much  as  half  a  score  of  the  most  illustrious  gourmands  ! 
— and  that  too  without  dyspepsia,  or  apoplexy.  Lei 
not  man  boast  any  longer  of  his  being  the  lord  of  the 
creation.  Would  we  were  a  pike  and  lord  of  Snedeck- 
er's  Lake,  for  as  the  great  prize  poet  sings  in  a  fit  of 
hungry  inspiration — 

"  I  sing  the  Pike  !  not  him  of  lesser  fame, 
At  Little  York,  who  gained  a  deathless  name, 
And  died  a  martyr  to  his  country's  weal, 
Instead  of  dying  of  a  glorious  meal — 
But  thee,  O  Pike !  lord  of  the  finny  crew, 
King  of  the  waters,  and  of  eating  too. 
Imperial  glutton,  that  for  tribute  takes 
The  glittering  small  fry.  of  a  hundred  lakes  • 
No  surfeits  on  thy  ample  feeding  wait, 
No  apoplexy  shortens  thy  long  date, 
The  patriarch  of  eating,  thou  dost  shine  ; 
A  century  of  gluttony  is  thine. 
Sure  the  old  tale  of  transmigration's  true, 
The  soul  of  Heliogababus  dwells  in  you !" 


STONY  POINT. 

This  is  a  rough  picturesque  point  pushing  boldly  out 
into  the  river,  directly  opposite  to  Verplanck's  Point  on 
the  east  side.  The  remains  of  a  redoubt  are  still  to  be 
seen  on  its  brow,  and  here  was  the  scene  of  one  of  the 
boldest  exploits  of  one  of  the  boldest  spirits  of  a  revo 
lution  fruitful  in  both.  The  fort  was  carried  at  mid 
night  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  by  a  party  of  Ameri 
cans  under  General  Anthony  Wayne,  the  fire  eater  of 
his  day.  In  order  to  judge  of  this  exploit,  it  is  neees- 
10* 


114 

sary  to  examine  the  place  and  see  the  extreme  difficult) 
of  its  approach.  The  last  exploit  of  "  Mad  Anthony," 
as  he  was  christened  by  his  admiring  soldiers  who  would 
follow  him  any  where,  was  the  decisive  defeat  of  the 
Indians  at  the  battle  of  Miami  in  1794,  which  gave  rest 
to  a  long  harassed  and  extensive  frontier,  and  led  to 
the  treaty  of  Greenville,  by  which  the  United  States 
acquired  an  immense  accession  of  territory.  He  died 
at  Presque  Isle  on  Lake  Erie,  in  the  fifty-second  year 
of  his  age.  It  is  believed  that  Pennsylvania  yet  owes 
him  a  monument. 

There  is  a  light  house  erected  here  on  the  summit  of 
the  point.  We  have  heard  people  laugh  at  it  as  en 
tirely  useless,  but  doubtless  they  did  not  know  what 
they  were  talking  about.  Light  houses  are  of  two 
kinds,  the  useful  and  the  ornamental.  The  first  are  to 
guide  mariners,  the  others  to  accommodate  the  lovers 
of  the  picturesque.  The  light  house  at  Stony  Point  is 
of  this  latter  description.  It  is  a  fine  object  either  in 
approaching  or  leaving  the  Highlands,  and  foul  befall 
the  carping  Smelfungus,  who  does  not  thank  the  public 
spirited  gentleman,  (whoever  he  was,)  to  whom  we  of 
the  picturesque  order  are  indebted  for  the  contemplation 
of  this  beautiful  superfluity.  Half  the  human  race, 
(we  mean  no  disparagement  to  the  lasses  we  adore,) 
a.nd  indeed  half  the  world,  is  only  made  to  look  at,  and 
why  not  a  light  house  ?  The  objections  are  untenable, 
for  if  a  light  house  be  of  no  other  use,  it  affords  a  snug 
place  for  some  lazy  philosopher  to  loll  out  the  rest  of 
his  life  on  the  feather  bed  of  a  snug  sinecure. 

We  now  approach  the  Highlands,  and  advise  the 


115 

reader  to  shut  himself  up  in  the  cabin  and  peruse  the 
following  pages  attentively,  as  it  is  our  intention  to  give 
a  sketch  of  this  fine  scenery,  so  infinitely  superior  to 
the  reality,  that  Nature  "will  not  be  able  to  recognise 
herself  in  our  picture. 

Genius  of  the  picturesque  sublime,  or  the  sublime 
picturesque,  inspire  us  !  Thou  that  didst  animate  the 
soul  of  John  Bull,  insomuch  that  if  report  says  true,  he 
did  once  get  up  from  dinner,  before  it  was  half  discuss 
ed,  to  admire  the  sublime  projection  of  Antony's  Nose. 
Thou  that  erewhile  didst  allure  a  first  rate  belle  and 
beauty  from  adjusting  her  curls  at  the  looking  glass,  to 
gaze  for  more  than  half  a  minute,  at  beauties  almost 
equal  to  her  own.  Thou  that  dost  sometimes  actually 
inspirit  that  last  best  work  of  the  ninth  part  of  a  man — 
the  dandy — actually  to  yawn  with  delight  at  the  Crow's 
Nest,  and  pull  up  his  breeches  at  sight  of  Fort  Putnam. 
Thou  genius  of  travellers,  and  tutelary  goddess  of 
bookmaking,  grant  us  a  pen  of  fire,  ink  of  lightning, 
and  words  of  thunder,  to  do  justice  to  the  mighty 
theme ! 

First  comes  the  gigantic  Donderbarrack — all  moun 
tains  are  called  gigantic,  because  the  ancient  race  of 
giants  was  turned  into  mountains,  which  accounts  for 
the  race  being  extinct — first  comes  the  mighty  Donder 
barrack,  president  of  hills — we  allow  of  no  king  moun 
tains  in  our  book — whose  head  is  hid  in  the  clouds, 
whenever  the  clouds  come  down  low  enough  ;  at  whose 
foot  dwells  in  all  the  feudal  majesty  (only  a  great  deal 
better)  of  a  Rhoderick  Dhu,  the  famous  highland  chief 
tain,  Caldwell,  lord  of  Donderbarrack,  and  all  the  little 


116 

hills  that  grow  out  of  his  ample  sides  like  warts  on  a 
giant's  nose.  To  this  mighty  chieftain,  all  the  steam 
boats  do  homage,  by  ringing  of  bells,  stopping  then- 
machinery,  and  sending  their  boats  ashore  to  carry  him 
the  customary  tribute,  to  wit,  store  of  visiters,  whom  it 
is  his  delight  to  entertain  at  his  hospitable  castle.  This 
stately  pile  is  of  great  antiquity  ;  its  history  being  lost 
in  the  dark  ages  of  the  last  century,  when  the  indian 
prowied  about  these  hills,  and  shot  his  deer,  ere  the 
Drolling  wave  of  the  white  man  swept  him  away  forever. 
Above — as  the  prize  poet  sings — 

"  High  on  the  cliffs  the  towering  eagles  soar — 
But  hush  my  muse — for  poetry's  a  bore." 

Turning  the  base  of  Donderbarrack,  the  nose  of  all 
noses,  Antony's  Nose,  gradually  displays  itself  to  the 
enraptured  eye,  which  must  be  kept  steadily  fixed  on 
these  our  glowing  pages.  Such  a  nose  is  not  seen 
every  day.  Not  the  famous  hero  of  Slawkdmburgius, 
whose  proboscis  emulated  the  steeple  of  Strasburg, 
ver  had  such  a  nose  to  his  face.  Taliacotius  himself 
ever  made  such  a  nose  in  his  life.  It  is  worth  while 
to  go  ten  miles  to  hear  it  blow — you  would  mistake  it 
for  a  trumpet.  The  most  curious  thing  about  it  is,  that 
it  looks  no  more  like  a  nose  than  my  foot.  But  now 
we  think  of  it,  there  is  still  something  more  curious 
connected  with  this  nose.  There  is  not  a  soul  born 
within  five  miles  of  it,  but  has  a  nose  of  most  jolly 
dimensions — not  quite  as  large  as  the  mountain,  but 
pretty  well.  Nay,  what  is  still  more  remarkable,  more 
than  one  person  has  recovered  his  nose,  by  regularly 


•: 


117 

blowing  the  place  where  it  ought  to  be,  with  a  white 
pocket  handkerchief,  three  times  a  day,  at  the  foot  oi" 
the  mountain,  in  honour  of  St.  Antony.  In  memory 
of  these  miraculous  restorations,  it  is  the  custom  for 
the  passengers  in  steam  boats,  to  salute  it  in  passing 
with  a  universal  blow  of  the  nose :  after  which,  they 
shake  their  kerchiefs  at  it,  and  put  them  carefully  in 
their  pockets.  No  young  lady  ever  climbs  to  the  top 
of  this  stately  nose,  without  affixing  her  white  cambric 
handkerchief  to  a  stick,  placing  it  upright  in  the  ground, 
and  leaving  it  waving  there,  in  hopes  that  all  her  pos 
terity  may  be  blessed  with  goodly  noses. 

Immediately  on  passing  the  Nose  the  Sugar  Loaf  ap 
pears  ;  keep  your  eye  on  the  book  for  your  life — you 
will  be  changed  to  a  loaf  of  sugar  if  you  dont.  This  has 
happened  to  several  of  the  followers  of  Lot's  wife,  who 
thereby  became  even  sweeter  than  they  were  before. 
Remember  poor  Eurydice,  whose  fate  was  sung  in  bur 
lesque  by  an  infamous  outcast  bachelor,  who  it  is  said 
was  afterwards  punished,  by  marrying  a  shrew  who  made 
him  mix  the  mustard  every  day  for  dinner. 

WEST  POINT. 

"  If  the  traveller,"  observes  Alderman  Janson,  "  in 
tends  stopping  here  to  visit  the  military  academy,  and 
.  its  admirable  superintendent,  I  advise  him  to  make  his 
will,  before  he  ventures  into  the  landing  boat.  That 
more  people  have  not  been  drowned,  in  this  adventurous 
experiment,  can  only  be  accounted  for  on  the  supposition 
that  miracles  are  growing  to  be  but  every  day  matters. 


118 

There  is  I  believe  a  law  regulating  the  mode  of  landing 
passengers  from  steam  boats,  but  it  is  a  singular  fact 
that  laws  will  not  execute  themselves  notwithstanding  all 
the  wisdom  of  the  legislature.  -Not  that  I  mean  to  find 
fault  with  the  precipitation  with  which  people  and  luggage 
are  tumbled  together  into  the  boat,  and  foisted  ashore  at 
the  rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour.  At  least  five  minutes 
is  saved  in  this  way  in  the  passage  to  Albany,  and  so 
much  added  to  the  delights  of  the  tourist,  who  is  thereby 
enabled  to  spend  five  minutes  more  at  the  springs.  Who 
would  not  risk  a  little  drowning,  and  a  little  scalding  for 
such  an  object  ?  Certainly  the  most  precious  of  all  com 
modities  is  time,  especially  to  people  who  dont  know 
what  to  do  with  it,  except  indeed  it  be  money  to  a  miser 
who  never  spends  any.  It  goes  to  my  heart  to  find  fault 
with  any  thing  in  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  where 
the  march  of  mind  is  swifter  than  a  race  horse  or  a  steam 
boat,  and  goes  hand  in  hand  with  the  progress  of  public 
improvement,  like  Darby  and  Joan,  or  Jack  and  Gill, 
blessing  this  fortunate  generation,  and  preparing  the  way 
for  a  world  of  steam  engines,  spinning  jennies,  and  ma 
chinery  :  insomuch  that  there  would  be  no  use  at  all  for 
such  an  animal  as  man  in  this  world  any  more,  if  steam 
engines  and  spinning  jennies  would  only  make  them 
selves.  But  the  reader  will  I  trust  excuse  me  this  once, 
for  venturing  to  hint  with  a  modesty  that  belongs  to  my 
nature,  that  all  this  hurry — this  racing — this  tumbling  of 
men,  women,  children  and  baggage  into  a  boat,  hel- 
ter  skelter — and  sending  them  ashore  at  the  risk  of  their 
lives — might  possibly  be  excusable  if  it  were  done  for 
the  public  accommodation.  But  the  fact  is  not  so.  It 


119 

is  nothing  but  the  struggle  of  interested  rivalry ;  the  ef 
fort  to  run  down  a  .rival  boat,  and  get  all,  instead  of 
sharing  with  others.  The  public  accommodation  re 
quires  that  boats  should  go  at  different  times  of  the  day, 
yet  they  prefer  starting  at  the  same  hour ;  nay,  the  same 
moment ;  eager  to  sweep  off  the  passengers  along  the 
river,  and  risking  the  lives  of  people  at  West  Point,  that 
they  may  take  up  the  passengers  at  Newburgh.  The 
truth  is,  in  point  of  ease  and  comfort,  convenience  and 
safety,  the  public  is  not  now  half  so  well  off,  as  during 
the  existence  of  what  the  said  public  was  persuaded  to 
call  a  great  grievance — the  exclusive  righl  of  Mr. 
Fulton. 

"  There  is  a  most  comfortable  hotel  at  West  Point, 
kept  by  Mr.  Cozens,  a  most  obliging  and  good  humoured 
man,  to  whom  we  commend  all  our  readers,  with  an  as 
surance  that  they  need  not  fear  being  cozened  by  him. 
Nothing  can  be  more  interesting  than  the  situation  of 
West  Point,  the  grand  object  to  which  it  is  devoted,  and 
the  magnificent  views  it  affords  in  all  directions.  If 
there  be  any  inspiration  in  the  sublime  productions  of 
nature,  or  if  the  mind  as  some  believe,  receives  an  im 
pulse  or  direction  from  local  situation,  there  is  not  per 
haps  in  the  world,  a  spot  more  favourable  to  the  produc 
tion  of  a  race  of  heroes,  and  men  of  science.  Secluded 
from  the  effeminate,  or  vitious  allurements  of  cities,  both 
mind  and  body,  preserve  a  vigorous  strength  and  fresh 
ness,  eminently  favourable  to  the  development  of  each 
without  enfeebling  either.  Manly  studies  and  manly 
exercise  go  hand  in  hand,  and  manly  sentiments  are  the 
natural  consequence.  Their  bodies  are  invigorated  by 


120 

military  exercise  and  habits,  while  their  intellects  are 
strengthened,  expanded  and  purified  by  the  acquirement 
of  those  high  branches  of  science,  those  graces  of  litera 
ture,  and  those  elegant  accomplishments,  which  when  all 
combined  constitute  the  complete  man.  No  one  whose 
mind  is  susceptible  of  noble  emotions,  can  see  these  fine 
young  fellows  going  through  their  exercises  on  the  plain 
of  West  Point,  to  the  sound  of  the  bugle  repeated  by  a  1 
dozen  echoes  of  the  mountains,  while  all  the  magnificence 
of  nature  combines  to  add  beauty  and  dignity  to  the  scene 
and  the  occasion,  without  feeling  his  bosom  swell  and 
glow  with  patriotic  pride. 

"  If  these  young  men  require  an  example  to  warn  or 
to  stimulate,  they  will  find  it  in  the  universal  execration 
heaped  upon  the  name,  and  the  memory  of  Benedict 
Arnold,  contrasted  with  the  reverential  affection,  that 
.will  forever  descend  to  the  latest  posterity  as  an  heir 
loom,  with  which  every  American  pronounces  the  name 
of  Washington.  It  was  at  West  Point  that  Arnold  be 
trayed  his  country  and  it  was  on  the  hills  opposite  West 
Point,  that  Washington,  wintered  with  his  army,  during 
the  most  gloomy  period  of  our  revolution,  rendered  still 
more  gloomy  by  the  treason  of  Arnold,  so  happily  frus 
trated  by  the  virtue  of  the  American  yeomanry.  The 
remains  of  the  huts  are  still  to  be  seen  on  Redoubt  Hill, 
and  its  vicinity,  and  there  is  a  fine  spring  on  the  banks  of  a 
brook,  nigh  by,  to  this  day  called  Washington's,  from& 
being  the  spring  whence  the  water  was  procured  for  his 
drinking.  It  issues  from  the  side  of  a  bank,  closely 
embowered  with  trees  and  is  excessively  cold.  The 
old  people  in  the  vicinity  who  generally  live  a  hundred 


years,  still  cherish  the  tradition  of  its  uses,  and  direct 
the  attention  of  inquirers  to  it,  with  a  feeling  than 
which  nothing  can  more  affectingly  indicate  the  depth 
of  that  devotion  implanted  in  the  heart  of  America 
for  her  good  father.  Close  to  the  spring  are  two 
of  the  prettiest  little  cascades  to  be  found  any  where. 
Indeed  the  whole  neighbourhood  abounds  in  beautiful 
views  and  romantic  associations,  worthy  the  pen  or  pen 
cil,  and  it  is  worth  while  to  cross  over  in  a  boat  from 
West  Point  to  spend  a  morning  here  in  rambling, 
during  which  the  West  Point  foundry,  the  most  com 
plete  establishment  of  its  kind  in  the  new  world,  may 
be  visited." 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  West  Point,  and 
about  two  miles  distant,  lies  COLD  SPRING,  a  pleasant 
thriving  little  village,  from  whence,  to  Fishkill,  is  per 
haps  the  pleasantest  ride  in  the  whole  country.  A  road 
has  been  made  along  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  On 
one  hand  it  is  washed  by  the  river — on  the  other  over 
hung  by  Bull  and  Breakneck  Hills,  whose  bases 
have  been  blown  up  in  many  places  to  afford  room  for  it 
to  pass.  The  prospects  on  every  hand  are  charming, 
and  at  the  turning  at  the  base  of  Breakneck  Hill,  there 
opens  to  the  north  and  northwest  a  view,  which  when 
seen  will  not  soon  be  forgotten. 

Nearly  opposite  Cold  Spring,  at  the  foot  of  two  moun 
tains  inaccessible  except  from  the  river,  lies  the  CITY  op 
FAITH — a  city  by  brevet ;  founded  by  an  enterprising 
person,  with  the  intention  of  cutting  out  Washington, 
and  making  it  the  capital  of  the  United  States — and 
indeed  of  the  new  world.  He  has  satisfied  himself 

11 


122 

that  the  spot  thus  aptly  selected,  is  the  nearest  possible 
point  of  navigation,  to  the  great  Northern  Pacific,  and 
contemplates  a  rail  road,  from  thence  to  the  mouth  of 
Columbia  River.  This  must  necessarily  concentrate 
the  intercourse  on  this  fortunate  spot.  After  which  his 
intention  is  to  dig  down  the  Crow's  Nest  and  Butter  Hill, 
or  decompose  the  rocks  with  vinegar,  in  order  that  tra 
vellers  may  get  at  his  emporium,  by  land,  without  break 
ing  their  necks.  He  has  already  six  inhabitants  to 
begin  with,  and  wants  nothing  to  the  completion  of  this 
great  project,  but  a  bank — a  subscription  of  half  a 
dozen  millions  from  the  government — a  loan  of  "  the 
credit  of  the  state,"  for  about  as  much,  and  a  little  more 
faith  in  the  people.  We  think  the  prospect  quite  cheer 
ing,  and  would  rejoice  in  the  prospective  glories  of  the 
City  of  Faith,  were  it  not  for  the  apprehension  that  it 
will  prove  fatal  to  the  Ohio  and  Chesapeake  Canal,  and 
swallow  up  the  Mamakating  and  Lacawaxan.  This 
business  of  founding  cities  in  America  is  considered  a 
mere  trifle.  They  make  a  great  noise  about  Romulus 
the  founder  of  Rome,  and  Peter  the  founder  of  St.  Pe 
tersburg!  We  knew  a  man  who  had  founded  twelve 
great  cities,  some  of  which  like  Rome  are  already  in 
ruins,  and  yet  he  never  valued  himself  on  that  account. 
As  you  emerge  from  the  Highlands,  a  noble  vista  ex 
pands  itself  gradually  to  the  view.  The  little  towns  of 
NEW  CORNWALL,  NEW  WINDSOR,  and  NEWBURGH,  are 
fseen  in  succession  along  the  west  bank  of  the  river^ 
which  here  as  if  rejoicing  at  its  freedom  from  the  moun 
tain  barrier  expands  itself  into  a  wide  bay,  with  Fishkill 
and  Matteawan  on  the  east,  and  the  three  little  towns 
on  the  west,  the  picturesque  shores  of  which  rise  gratf- 


123 

ually  into  highlands,  bounded  in  the  distance  to  the 
northwest  by  the  blue  summits  of  the  Kaatskill  Moun 
tains.  Into  this  bay  on  the  east  enters  Fishkill  Creek, 
a  fine  stream  which  waters  some  of  the  richest  and  most 
beautiful  vallies  of  Dutchess  County.  Approaching  the 
Hudson,  it  exhibits  several  picturesque  little  cascades, 
which  have  lately  been  spoiled  by  dams  and  manufacto 
ries,  those  atrocious  enemies  to  all  picturesque  beauty, 
as  the  prize  poet  exclaims  in  a  fine  burst  of  enthusiasm 
— poetical  enthusiasm,  consisting  in  swearing  roundly. 

"  Mill  dams,  be  d d,  and  all  his  race  accurs'd, 

Who  d d  a  stream  by  damming  it  the  first !" 

On  the  west  and  nearly  opposite,  enters  Murderer's 
Creek,  which  after  winding  its  way  through  the  delight 
ful  vale  of  Canterbury,  as  yet  unvisited  and  undescri- 
bed,  by  tourist  or  traveller,  tumbles  over  a  villanous 
mill  dam  into  the  river.  If  the  traveller  has  a  mind  for 
a  beautiful  ride  in  returning  from  the  springs,  let  him 
land  at  Newburgh,  and  follow  the  turnpike  road  through 
the  village  of  Canterbury,  on  to  the  Clove,  a  pass  of  the 
great  range  of  mountains,  through  which  the  Ramapo 
plunges  its  way,  among  the  rocks.  The  ride  through 
this  pass  is  highly  interesting,  and  the  spot  where  the 
Ramapo  emerges  from  the  southern  side  of  the  moun 
tains  and  joining  the  Mauwy,  courses  its  way  through  a 
narrow  vale  of  exquisite  beauty,  till  it  is  lost  in  the 
Pompton  Plains  in  the  river  of  that  name,  is  highly 
worthy  of  attention.  The  roads  are  as  good  as  usual, 
but  the  accommodations  are  not  the  best  in  the  world, 
and  those  who  love  good  eating  and  good  beds,  better 
rhan  nature's  beauties,  (among  which  we  profess  omv 


124 

selves,)  may  go  some  other  way.  Those  who  choose 
this  route  by  way  of  variety,  must  by  no  means  forget 
the  good  house  of  Mynheer  Roome  at  Pompton  village, 
famed  in  song,  where  they  will  meet  with  mortal  store 
of  good  things  ;  sweetmeats  of  divers  sorts,  cakes  in 
numerable  and  unutterable,  and  hear  the  Dutch  lan 
guage  spoken  in  all  its  original  purity,  with  the  true  Flo 
rentine  accent. 

But  let  the  traveller  beware  of  talking  to  him  about 
turnpikes,  rail  ways  or  canals,  all  which  he  abhorreth. 
In  particular  avoid  the  subject  of  the  MORRIS  CANAL, 
at  the  very  name  of  which  Mynheer's  pipe  will  be  seen 
to  pour  forth  increasing  volumes  of  angry  srnoke,  and 
like  another  Vesuvius,  he  will  disgorge  whole  torrents 
of  red  hot  Dutch  lava.  In  truth  Mynheer  Roome  has 
an  utter  contempt  for  modern  improvements,  and  we 
dont  know  but  he  is  half  right — "  Dey  always  cost  more 
dan  dey  come  to,"  he  says,  and  those  who  contemplate 
the  sober  primitive  independence  of  the  good  Mynheer, 
and  see  his  fat  cattle,  his  fat  negroes,  and  his  fat  self, 
encompassed  by  rich  meadows,  and  smiling  fields,  all 
unaided  by  the  magic  of  modern  improvements,  will  be 
apt  to  think  with  Mynheer  "  dat  one  half  dese  tings  dey 
call  improvements,"  add  little  if  any,  to  human  happi 
ness,  or  domestic  independence. 

Within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of  Mynheer  Roome's 
door,  the  Pompton,  Ramapo  and  Ringwood,  three  little 
rivers,  in  whose  very  bottoms  you  can  see  your  face 
unite  their  waters,  gathered  from  the  hills  to  the  north 
and  west,  and  assuming  the  name  of  the  first,  wind 
through  the  extensive  plain  in  many  playful  meanders. 


125 


almost  out  of  character  for  Dutch  rivers,  till  they  filial 
ly  disappear,  through  a  break  in  the  hills  towards  the 
south.  From  Pompton  there  is  a  good  road  to  Hobo- 
ken,  by  diverging  a  little  from  which,  the  traveller  may 
visit  the  falls  of  Passaic,  which  were  once  the  pride 
of  nature,  who  has  lately  resigned  them  to  her  rival  art 
and  almost  disowns  them  now.  But  it  is  high  time  to 
return  to  Murderer's  Creek  and  Canterbury  Vale,  which 
hath  been  sung  by  the  prize  poet  so  often  quoted,  in  the 
following  strains,  which  partake  of  the  true  mystical 

metaphysical  sublime. 

» ' 

"  As  I  was  going  to  Canterbury, 
I.  met  twelve  hay  cocks  in  a  fury, 
When  as  I  gaz'd  a  hieroglyphic  bat 
Skimm'd  o'er  the  zenith  in  a  slip  shod  hat." 

From  which  the  intelligent  traveller  will  derive  as  clear 
an  idea  of  the  singular  charms  of  this  vale,  as  from 
most  descriptions  in  prose  or  verse. 

The  name  of  Murderer's  Creek  is  said  to  be  derived 
from  the  following  incidents. 

Little  more  than  a  century  ago,  the  beautiful  region 
watered  by  this  stream,  was  possessed  by  a  small  tribe 
of  indiaiis,  which  has  long  since  become  extinct  or  been 
incorporated  with  some  other  savage  nation  of  the  west. 
Three  or  four  hundred  yards  from  where  the  stream  dis 
charges  itself  into  the  Hudson,  a  white  family  of  the 
name  of  Stacey,  had  established  itself,  in  a  log  house, 
by  tacit  permission  of  the  tribe,  to  whom  Stacey  had 
made  himself  useful  by  his  skill  in  a  variety  of  little  arts 
highly  estimated  by  the  savages.  In  particular  a  friend- 
11* 


126 

ship  subsisted  between  him  and  an  old  indian  called 
Naoman,  who  often  came  to  his  house  and  partook  of 
his  hospitality.  The  indians  never  forgive  injuries  or 
forget  benefits.  The  family  consisted  of  Stacey,  his 
wife,  and  two  children,  a  boy  and  girl,  the  former  five, 
the  latter  three  years  old. 

One  day  Naoman,  came  to  Stacey's  log  hut, 
in  his  absence,  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat  down. 
He  looked  very  serious,  sometimes  sighed  deeply, 
but  said  not  a  word.  Stacey's  wife  asked  him  what 
was  the  matter,  and  if  he  was  sick.  He  shook  his 
head,  sighed,  but  said  nothing,  and  soon  went  away. 
The  next  day  he  came  again,  and  behaved  in  the  same 
manner.  Stacey's  wife  began  to  think  strange  of  this, 
and  related  it  to  her  husband,  who  advised  her  to  urge 
the  old  man  to  an  explanation  the  next  time  he  came. 
Accordingly  when  he  repeated  his  visit  the  day  after,  she 
was  more  importunate  than  usual.  At  last  the  old 
indian  said,  "  I  am  a  red  man,  and  the  pale  faces  are 
our  enemies — why  should  I  speak?'  But  my  husband 
and  I  are  your  friends  ;  you  have  eaten  salt  with  us  a 
thousand  times,  and  my  children  have  sat  on  your  knee 
as  often.  If  you  have  any  thing  on  your  mind  tell  it 
me.  «  It  will  cost  me  my  life  if  it  is  known,  and  the 
white-faced  women  are  not  good  at  keeping  secrete,'5 
replied  Naoman.  Try  me,  and  see.  "  Will  you  swear 
by  your  Great  Spirit,  you  will  tell  none  but  your  hus 
band?"  I  have  none  else  to  tell.  "But  will  you 
swear  ?"  I  do  swear  by  our  Great  Spirit,  I  will  tell 
none  but  my  husband.  "  Not  if  my  tribe  should  kill 


127 

you  for  not  telling?"     Not  if  your  tribe  should  kill -me 
for  not  telling. 

Naoman  then  proceeded  to  tell  her  that,  owing  to 
some  encroachments  of  the  white  people  below  the 
mountains,  his  tribe  had  become  irritated,  and  were  re 
solved  that  night  to  massacre  all  the  white  settlers  with 
in  their  reach.  That  she  must  send  for  her  husband, 
inform  him  of  the  danger,  and  as  secretly  and  speedily 
as  possible  take  their  canoe,  and  paddle  with  all  haste 
over  the  river  to  Fishkill  for  safety.  "  Be  quick,  and 
do  nothing  that  may  excite  suspicion,"  said  Naoman  as 
he  departed.  The  good  wife  sought  her  husband,  who 
was  down  on  the  river  fishing,  told  him  the  story,  and 
as  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  they  proceeded  to  their  boat, 
which  was  unluckily  filled  with  water.  It  took  some 
time  to  clear  it  out,  and  meanwhile  Stacey  recollected 
his  gun  which  had  been  left  behind.  He  proceeded  to 
the  house  and  returned  with  it.  All  this  took  up  con 
siderable  time,  and  precious  time  it  proved  to  this  poor 
family. 

The  daily  visits  of  old  Naoman,  and  his  more  than 
ordinary  gravity,  had  excited  suspicion  in  some  of  the 
tribe,  who  had  accordingly  paid  particular  attention  to 
the  movements  of  Stacey.  One  of  the  young  indians 
who  had  been  kept  on  the  watch,  seeing  the  whole  fa 
mily  about  to  take  their  boat,  ran  to  the  little  indian  vil 
lage,  about  a  mile  off,  and  gave  the  alarm.  Five  in 
dians  collected,  ran  down  to  the  river  side  where  their 
canoes  were  moored,  jumped  in,  and  paddled  after 
Stacey,  who  by  this  time  had  got  some  distance  out  into 
the  stream.  They  gained  on  him  so  fast,  that  twice  he 


128 

dropt  his  paddle  and  took  up  his  gun.  But  his  wife 
prevented  his  shooting,  by  telling  him,  that  if  he  fired, 
and  they  were  afterwards  overtaken,  they  would  meet  no 
mercy  from  the  indians.  He  accordingly  refrained, 
and  plied  his  paddle,  till  the  sweat  rolled  in  big  drops 
down  his  forehead.  All  would  not  do  ;  they  were  over 
taken  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  shore,  and  carried 
back  with  shouts  of  yelling  triumph. 

When  they  got  ashore,  the  indians  set  fire  to  Sta- 
cey's  house,  and  dragged  himself,  his  wife  and  children, 
to  their  village.  Here  the  principal  old  men,  and  Nao- 
man  among  the  rest,  assembled  to  deliberate  on  the 
affair.  The  chief  among  them,  stated  that  some  one  of 
the  tribe  had  undoubtedly  been  guilty  of  treason,  in  ap 
prising  Stacey  the  white  man  of  the  designs  of  the 
tribe,  whereby  they  took  the  alarm,  and  had  well  nigh 
escaped.  He  proposed  to  examine  the  prisoners,  as  to 
who  gave  the  information.  The  old  men  assented  to 
this ;  and  Naoman  among  the  rest.  Stacey  was  first 
interrogated  by  one  of  the  old  men,  who  spoke  English, 
and  interpreted  to  the  others.  Stacey  refused  to  betray 
his  informant.  His  wife  was  then  questioned,  while  at 
the  same  moment,  two  indians  stood  threatening  the 
•f  two  children  with  tomahawks  in  case  she  did  not  con 
fess.  She  attempted  to  evade  the  truth,  by  declaring  that 
she  had  a  dream  the  night  before  which  had  alarmed 
her,  and  that  she  had  persuaded  her  husband  to  fly. 
"  The  Great  Spirit  never  deigns  to  talk  in  dreams  to  a 
white  face,"  said  the  old  indian  :  "  Woman,  thou  hast 
two  tongues  and  two  faces.  Speak  the  truth,  or  thy 
children  shall  surely  die,"  The  little  boy  and  girl  were 


129 

then  brought  close  to  her,  and  the  two  savages  stood 
over  them,  ready  to  execute  their  bloody  orders. 

"  Wilt  thou  name,"  said  the  old  indian,  "  the  red  man 
who  betrayed  his  tribe.  I  will  ask  thee  three  times." 
The  mother  answered  not.  "  Wilt  thou  name  the  trai 
tor?  This  is  the  second  time."  The  poor  mother 
looked  at  her  husband,  and  then  at  her  children,  and 
stole  a  glance  at  Naoman,  who  sat  smoking  his  pipe 
with  invincible  gravity.  She  wrung  her  hands  and 
wept ;  but  remained  silent.  "  Wilt  thou  name  the 
traitor  1  'tis  the  third  and  last  time."  The  agony  of  the 
mother  waxed  more  bitter  ;  again  she  sought  the  eye  of 
Naoman,  but  it  was  cold  and  motionless  ;  a  pause  of  a 
moment  awaited  her  reply,  and  the  next  moment  the 
tomahawks  were  raised  over,  the  heads  of  the  children, 
who  besought  their  mother  not  to  let  them  be  murdered. 

"  Stop,"  cried  Naoman.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon 
him.  "  Stop,"  repeated  he,  in  a  tone  of  authority. 
"  White  woman,  thou  hast  kept  thy  word  with  me  to 
the  last  moment.  I  am  the  traitor.  I  have  eaten  of 
the  salt,  warmed  myself  at  the  fire,  shared  the  kindness 
of  these  Christian  white  people,  and  it  was  I  that  told 
them  of  their  danger.  I  am  a  withered,  leafless,  branch 
less  trunk  ;  cut  me  down  if  you  will.  I  am  ready."  A 
yell  of  indignation  sounded  on  all  sides.  Naoman  de 
scended  from  the  little  bank  where  he  sat,  shrouded  his 
face  with  his  mantle  of  skins  and  submitted  to  his  fate. 
He  fell  dead  at  the  feet  of  the  white  woman  by  a  blow 
of  the  tomahawk. 

But  the  sacrifice  of  Naoman,  and  the  firmness  of  the, 
Christian  white  woman^  did  not  suffice  to  save  the  lives 


130 

of  the  other  victims.  They  perished — how  it  is  needless 
to  say  ;  and  the  memory  of  their  fate  has  been  pre 
served  in  the  name  of  the  pleasant  stream  on  whose 
banks  they  lived  and  died,  which  to  this  day  is  called 
Murderer's  Creek. 


NEW  CORNWALL,  AND  NEW  WINDSOR. 

It  is  bad  policy  to  call  places  new.  The  name  will 
do  very  well  for  a  set  out,  but  when  they  begin  to 
assume  an  air  of  antiquity,  it  becomes  quite  unsuitable. 
It  is  too  much  the  case  with  those  who  stand  godfa 
thers  to  towns  in  our  country.  They  seem  to  think 
because  we  live  in  a  new  world,  every  thing  must  be 
christened  accordingly.  The  most  flagrant  instance  of 
this  enormity  is  New  York,  which  although  ten  times 
as  large,  and  ten  times  as  handsome  as  York  in  Eng 
land,  is  destined  by  this  infamous  cognomen  of"  new," 
to  play  second  to  that  old  worn  out  town,  which  has  no 
thing  in  it  worth  seeing  except  its  great  minster.  The 
least  people  can  do  after  condemning  a  town  to  be  call 
ed  neiu,  is  to  paint  their  houses  every  now  and  then,  that 
the  place  may  do  honour  to  its  christening.  But  be 
tween  ourselves,  Monsieur  Traveller,  the  whole  thing  is 
absurd.  Some  score  of  centuries  hence,  we  shall  have 
a  dozen  clutterheaded  antiquaries,  disputing  whether 
New  York  and  old  York,  were  not  one  and  the  same 
city ;  and  it  is  just  as  likely  as  not,  that  the  latter  will 
run  away  with  all  the  glories  of  the  queen  of  the  new 
world.  Why  not  call  our  cities  by  a  name  utterly  new 
to  human  ears,  Conecocheague,  Amoonoosuck,  Chaba- 


131 

quidick,  Ompompanoosuck,  or  Kathtippakamuck ;  there 
would  then  be  no  danger  of  their  being  confounded  with 
those  of  the  old  world,  and  they  would  stand  by  them 
selves  in  sesquipedalian  dignity,  till  the  end  of  time, 
or  till  people  had  not  breath  to  utter  their  names. 

"  NEW  CORNWALL,"  as  Alderman  Janson  truly  ob 
serves,  "  is  assuredly  not  one  of  the  largest  towns  on 
the  river ;  but  it  might  be  so,  and  it  is  not  its  fault  that 
it  is  not  six  times  as  large  as  Pekin,  London,  Paris  or 
Constantinople,  as  it  can  be  clearly  proved  that  it  might 
have  extended  half  a  dozen  leagues  towards  any  of  the 
four  quarters  of  the  world  without  stumbling  over  any 
thing  of  consequence  except  a  river  and  a  mountain. 
If  its  illustrious  founders  (whose  names  are  unknown) 
instead  of  confining  their  energies  to  building  a  few 
wooden  houses,  which  they  forgot  to  paint  even  with 
Spanish  brown,  had  cut  a  canal  to  the  Pacific  Ocean, 
made  a  rail  road  to  Passamaquoddy,  and  a  tunnel  under 
the  Atlantic,  and  erected  three  hundred  thousand  hand 
some  brick  houses  with  folding  doors,  and  marble  man 
tel  pieces,  without  doubt  it  might  have  been  at  this  mo 
ment  the  greatest  city  in  the  known  world.  I  know 
that  a  certain  ignoramus  of  a  critic  denies  all  this,  inas 
much  as  the  river  is  in  the  way  towards  the  east  and 
therefore  it  cannot  extend  that  way.  But  I  suppose 
this  blockhead  never  heard  of  turning  the  course  of  the 
Hudson  into  the  channel  of  Fishkill  Creek,  and  so  at 
the  same  time  improving  the  navigation  of  both,  and 
affording  ample  space  for  the  growth  of  the  city  by 
digging  down  Fishkill  Mountains.  Nay,  we  dare  affirm 
he  is  totally  ignorant  of  the  mode  of  sucking  a  river. 


132 

or  even  a  sea  dry  by  means  of  sponges,  whereby  it 
may  be  easily  passed  over  dry  shod,  a  method  still  pur 
sued  by  the  people  of  Terra  Incognita,  and  those  that 
carry  their  heads  below  their  necks,  mentioned  by  He 
rodotus.  We  therefore  affirm  that  the  only  reason  why 
this  is  not  the  greatest  city  in  the  universe,  is  because 
the  founders  did  not  do  as  I  have  just  said.  If  the 
aforesaid  blockhead  of  a  critic  denies  this,  may  he  never 
be  the  founder  of  a  great  city,  or  even  a  great  book. 
He  ought  to  know,  blockhead  as  he  is,  that  in  this 
age  of  improvement,  every  thing  is  possible ;  and  that 
the  foundations  of  a  great  city  may  be  laid  any  where 
in  despite  of  that  old  superannuated  baggage  *  Nature,' 
whom  nobody  minds  now  a  days.  Only  give  me  a  bank, 
and  the  liberty  of  issuing  as  much  paper  as  I  please, 
without  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  redeeming  it ;  or 
only  let  the  state  of  New  York  *  loan  me  its  credit'  for 
a  million  or  so,  and  I  will  engage  to  turn  Nature  topsy 
turvy,  or  commit  any  other  enormity  in  the  way  of  con 
ferring  benefits  on  the  community.  If  Archimedes  had 
Imown  any  thing  about  banks,  he  would  have  required 
no  other  basis  for  the  lever  with  which  he  was  to  raise 
the  world.  But  unfortunately  for  the  march  of  mind 
and  the  progress  of  public  improvements,  the  banking 
capital  of  this  portion  of  the  republic  was  diverted  to 
one  of  the  most  singular  objects,  by  one  .of  the  most 
singular  conspiracies  on  record. 

"  It  seems"  continues  the  alderman,  "  the  people  of 

New  York,  with  rather  more  discretion  than  they  have 

,  since  displayed  in  similar  cases,  became  at  one  time 

rather  shy  of  the  paper  money  of  certain  country  banks, 


133 

and  among  others  the  bank  in  question.  Whereupon 
the  directors,  as  fame  loudly  reported  at  that  time,  did 
incontinently  get  together  and  determine  to  starve  the 
good  citizens  of  New  York  into  swallowing  their  notes 
by  cutting  off  their  supplies  of  Goshen  butter.  Ac 
cordingly  as  the  aforesaid  goddess  did  loudly  trumpet 
forth  to  the  world,  divers  agents,  directors,  clerks  and 
cashiers,  were  sent  into  the  rich  bottoms  of  Orange 
County,  to  contract  for  all  the  butter  made  or  to  be 
made,  during  that  remarkable  year.  The  consequence 
was  that  a  horrible  scarcity  took  place  in  New  York,  the 
burghers  whereof  had  for  a  long  time  nothing  to  butter 
their  parsnips  with  but  fair  words.  But  the  good  people 
ef  the  metropolis  held  out  manfully,  refusing  for  a  long 
time  to  swallow  the  aforesaid  bank  notes,  until  being 
at  length  actually  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  substitu 
ting  Philadelphia  butter,  they  gave  in  at  last  and  agreed 
to  swallow  any  thing  rather  than  the  said  butter.  Here 
upon  the  butter  and  the  notes  came  to  market  in  great 
quantities,  and  such  was  the  sympathy  which  grew  up 
between  them,  that  the  latter  actually  turned  yellow,  and 
assumed  the  exact  colour  of  the  former.  In  memory 
of  this  renowned  victory  over  the  New  Yorkers,  the 
county  was  called  Orange,  in  honour  of  the  butter,  which 
is  exactly  of  that  colour,  and  all  the  milk  maids  to  this 
day  wear  orange  coloured  ribbons,  as  they  sit  milking 
their  cows  and  singing  Dutch  songs." 

This  is  not  the  place  for  dilating  on  the  manifold 

advantages  of  banks  and  paper  money,  which  last  we 

look  upon  as  the  greatest  discovery  of  modern  times,  or 

indeed  of  all  times  whatever.     But  we  hope  the  en- 

12 


134 

lightened  traveller,  will  for  a  few  moment's  withdraw 
his  eyes  from  the  beauties  of  the  scenery,  to  attend  to 
a  few  of  the  most  prominent  blessings  of  paper  money 
and  banks. 

In  the  first  place,  the  institution  of  paper  money  has 
called  forth  the  talents  of  divers  persons  in  the  fine  arts, 
as  is  exemplified  in  the  numerous  attempts  at  imita- 
ti6n,  which  is  the  basis  of  the  fine  arts.  Before  the 
sublime  invention  of  paper  money,  it  was  not  worth 
while  for  a  man  to  risk  his  neck  or  his  liberty,  •  for  the 
paltry  purpose  of  counterfeiting  a  silver  dollar ;  but 
now  since  the  forgery  of  a  single  note,  and  the  suc 
cessful  passing  it  away,  may  put  a  thousand  dollars  in 
the  pocket,  there  is  some  stimulus  to  the  exercise  of 
genius.  Besides,  a  man  can  carry  in  his  pocket  book 
forged  notes,  to  the  amount  of  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  dollars,  without  exciting  attention  ;  whereas  the  same 
amount  in  counterfeit  specie,  would  require  a  dozen 
wagons  or  a  steam  boat,  and  inevitably  excite  sus 
picion. 

Thus  it  will  be  found,  that  this  branch  of  the  fine 
arts  has  improved  and  extended  prodigiously  under  the 
institution  of  paper  money  ;  insomuch  that  the  works  of 
our  best  artists  have  been  frequently  imitated  so  suc 
cessfully  as  to  impose  upon  the  most  experienced  eye. 
In  addition  to  this  singular  advantage,  it  cannot  be  de 
nied,  that  every  dollar  thus  created  by  this  spirit  of 
emulation  in  the  fine  arts,  adds  so  much  to  the  public 
wealth,  and  forms  an  accession  to  the  circulating  me 
dium.  When  at  last  its  circulation  is  stopt,  by  a  disco 
very  ?  it  will  generally  be  found  in  the  hands  of  some 


•  135 

ignorant  labourer,  so  poor  that  the  loss  of  a  few  dollars, 
is  a  matter  of  little  consequence,  as  he  would  at  all 
events  be  poor,  either  with  or  without  them.  Besides, 
he  deserves  to  suffer  for  his  ignorance,  like  every  body 
else  in  the  world. 

Another  great  blessing  of  paper  money  is,  that  it 
makes  every  body  believe  themselves  richer  than  they 
really  are,  as  is  exemplified  in  the  following  authentic 
story  of  a  Connecticut  farmer,  which  we  extract  from 
the  annals  of  that  state. 

The  farmer  had  a  sow  and  pigs,  just  at  the  time  a 
little  bank  was  set  up  in  a  village  hard  by,  which  by 
making  money  plenty  raised  the  price  of  his  sow  and 
pigs,  some  fifty  per  cent.  This  tempted  him  to  sell 
them,  which  he  did,  for  a  high  price,  as  much  as  fifty 
dollars.  The  next  spring  he  wanted  another  sow  and 
pigs  for  his  winter  pork.  In  the  meanwhile,  the  paper 
of  the  little  bank  having  been  issued  with  too  great 
liberality,  had  depreciated  very  considerably,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  give  seventy-five  dollars  for  a  sow  and 
pigs.  Very  well — the  sow  and  pigs  were  now  worth 
,  seventy-five  dollars.  About  this  time,  the  legislative 
'  wisdom  chartered  another  bank,  in  another  neighbouring 
town,  having  a  church  and  a  blacksmith's  shop — but  no 
whipping  posts,  they  being  abolished  for  the  benefit  of 
honest  people.  This  made  money  still  more  plenty  than 
before,  and  our  honest  farmer  was  again  tempted  to  sell 
his  sow  and  pigs,  for  a  hundred  dollars.  He  was  now 
worth  fifty  dollars  more  than  when  he  commenced 
speculating,  but  then  the  mischief  was,  that  he  wanted 
a  sow  and  pigs.  Very  well.  The  multiplication  of 


136 

paper  had  its  usual  effect  in  depreciating  its  value,  and 
it  so  happened,  that  he  was  obliged  to  buy  a  sow  and 
pigs,  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  He  calculated  he 
had  now  made  a  hundred  dollars  by  his  speculation,  but 
still  he  had  nothing  to  show  for  it,  but  his  sow  and  pigs. 
To  make  an  end  of  our  story  ;  our  honest  farmer  was 
once  more  tempted  to  speculate,  by  an  offer  of  two  hun 
dred  dollars  for  his  sow  and  pigs,  and  began  to  talk  of 
buying  an  addition  to  his  farm,  when  unluckily  the  bank 
failed,  and  the  good  man's  speculation  ended  in  having 
exchanged  his  saw  and  pigs  for  nothing.  But  he  had 
enjoyed  the  delight  of  imaginary  wealth  all  this  time, 
which  every  body  knows  is  far  better  than  the  reality, 
as  it  brings  all  the  pleasures  without  any  of  the  cares  of 
riches.  How  often  do  we  see  men,  rolling  in  actual 
wealth,  suffering  more  than  the  pangs  of  poverty,  by 
the  anticipation  of  it ;  but  who  ever  saw  one  who  ima 
gined  himself  rich  haunted  by  a  similar  bugbear. 

Banking  capital  is  in  truth  a  capital  thing.  All  other 
capital  is  real ;  this  is  imaginary,  and  every  body  knows 
the  pleasures  of  imagination  far  transcend  those  of 
reality.  It  is  better  than  the  music  of  Amphion  or 
Orpheus,  for  the  former  only  whistled  up  the  walls  of  a 
city,  and  the  latter  set  the  trees  and  bears  dancing ; 
while  your  banking  capital  can  build  houses  and  furnish 
them  too  ;  and  not  only  put  the  bulls  and  bears  on  tip 
toe,  but  make  an  ass  as  wise  as  Solomon.  In  short, 
not  to  delay  the  traveller  too  long,  from  the  beauties  of 
nature,  had  the  old  philosophers,  known  any  thing  of 
paper  money,  they  would  no  longer  have  disputed  about, 
the  magnum  bonum,  which  is  neither  a  vile  Brummagem 


137 


razor,  nor  a  clear  conscience,  but  an  abundance  of  paper 
currency. 

NEWBURGH  is  the  capital  of  Orange  County,  so  call 
ed,  according  to  Alderman  Janson,  from  the  fine  yellow 
butter  made  there  in  great  quantities.  It  is  the  colour 
of  an  orange.  It  is  a  thriving  village,  and  a  great  place 
for  holding  conventions.  The  steam  boats  stop  here 
just  long  enough  to  give  people  a  fair  chance  of  break 
ing  their  shins,  in  coming  aboard,  and  getting  ashore. 
The  two  tides  of  people  meeting,  occasions  a  pleasant 
bustle  very  amusing  to  the  spectator,  but  not  to  the  actor. 
There  is  a  bank  here,  the  notes  of  which  are  yellow  in 
compliment  to  the  butter.  The  houses  are  mostly 
painted  yellow  for  a  similar  reason,  and  the  men  wear 
yellow  breeches  when  they  go  to  church  on  Sundays. 
The  complexions  of  the  young  women  are  a  little  tinged 
with  this  peculiarity  ;  but  they  are  very  handsome  not 
withstanding,  though  they  cant  hold  a  candle  to  the 
jolly  Dutch  girls  at  Fishkill  on  the  opposite  side.  New- 
burgh  is  not  illustrious  for  any  particular  delicacy  of  the 
table,  which  might  give  it  distinction,  and  therefore  we 
advise  the  intelligent  traveller  not  to  trouble  himself  to 
stop  there.  In  order  to  eat  his  way  through  a  country 
with  proper  advantage,  the  enlightened  tourist  should 
be  apprized  beforehand  of  these  matters,  else  he  will 
travel  to  little  purpose. 

From  Newburgh  to  Poughkeepsie,  the  river  presents 
nothing  particularly  striking ;  but  the  shores  are  every 
where  varied  with  picturesque  points  of  view.  Neither 
is  there  any  thing  remarkable  in  the  eating  way.  The 
traveller  may  therefore  pass  on  to  Poughkeepsie,  Po- 
12* 


138 

Itepsie,  or  Ploughkeepsie,  as  the  Honourable  Frederick 
Augustus  De  Roos  is  pleased  to  call  it  in  his  Travels  oi' 
Twenty-One  Days. 

POUGHKEEPSIE  is  the  capital  of  Dutchess  County,  so 
called  in  honour  of  the  Dutchess  of  York,  daughter  of 
the  famous  Chancellor  Clarendon,  and  who,  if  Monseig- 
neur  the  Count  de  Grammont  tells  the  truth,  had  very 
little  honour  to  bestow  upon  the  county  in  return.  The 
origin  of  the  word  Poughkeepsie,  is  buried  in  the  re 
mote  ages  of  antiquity  ;  but  it  is  supposed  to  be  either 
Creek  or  Greek.  It  is  however  neither  mentioned  by 
Ptolemy  or  Strabo.  This  omission  may  be  supposed 
to  indicate  that  it  was  not  in  being  at  that  time.  But 
the  fact  is,  the  ancients  were  like  their  successors  the 
moderns,  deplorably  ignorant  of  this  country,  as  well  as 
of  the  noble  science  of  gastronomy,  and  expended  as 
much  money  upon  a  goose's  liver,  as  would  furnish  a 
dozen  tables  with  all  the  delicacies  of  a  Paris  Restaura- 
tory.  They  stuffed  the  goose  with  figs — a  fig  for  such 
stuffing  !  Yet  must  we  not  undervalue  the  skill  of  the 
Romans,  who  were  worthy  to  conquer  the  world,  if  if 
were  only  for  discovering  the  inimitable  art  of  not  only 
roasting  a  goose  alive,  but  eating  it  alive  afterwards. 
The  fattening  of  worms  with  meal  was  a.  so  an  inimita 
ble  excellence  of  these  people.  But  it  is  the  noble  and 
princely  price  of  their  meals  which  most  excites  our 
envy  and  applause ;  and  in  this  respect  it  is  that  the 
immortal  Apicius,  who  spent  2,000,000  of  dollars  in 
suppers,  deserved  to  give  his  name  to  all  modern  gour 
mands.  Neither  the  death  of  Curtius,  nor  Cato  of  Utica, 
nor  any  other  Roman  worthy,  can  touch  the  heel  of  the 
shoe  of  that  of  the  thrice  renowned  Apicius,  who  starved 


139 

himself  to  death,  for  fear  of  being  starved,  he  having 
but  about  four  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  spend  in  fat 
tening  worms,  enlarging  livers,  and  roasting  geese  alive, 
It  was  a  glorious  sera,  when  a  supper  cost  half  a  million 
of  dollars  ;  and  it  was  worth  while  for  a  man  to  visit 
Rome  from  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth,  only  to  see 
these  people  eat.  Truly,  we  say  again,  they  deserved 
the  empire  of  the  world. 

The  highest  price  we  ever  paid  for  a  supper  in 
Poughkeepsie,  was — we  are  ashamed  to  mention  it- 
was  seventy-five  cents.  But  then  we  had  no  live  geese, 
stuffed  worms,  or  diseased  livers.  Alas !  we  shall 
never  conquer  the  world  if  we  go  on  in  this  way  ! 

Somewhere  between  Poughkeepsie  and  Hudson  in 
clusive,  is  said  to  be  a  great  hot  bed  of  politics,  and 
some  of  the  greatest  politicians  of  the  state  infest  this 
quarter.  In  proof  of  this,  it  is  always  found  that  they 
are  on  the  right,  that  is  to  say  the  strongest  side.  We 
are  told,  but  do  not  vouch  for  the  fact,  that  they  consult 
the  weather  cock  on  the  court  house  steeple,  and  change 
their  coats  accordingly.  If  the  wind  blows  from  the 
northeast,  they  put  on  their  domestic  woollens  ;  if  from 
the  south,  or  west,  these  being  warm  winds,  they  change 
their  domestic  woollens,  for  light  regent's  cloth  ;  and  if- 
the  wind  veers  about  as  it  sometimes  does,  without- 
settling  in  any  quarter,  they  throw  by  their  coat  entirely, 
until  it  blows  steadily.  Those  who  have  but  one  coal 
to  their  backs,  are  obliged  to  turn  it  to  suit  the  wind  and 
weather.  But  this  is  the  case  with  but  few,  as  they  are 
all  too  good  politicians  to  be  reduced  to  such  extremity. 
This  may  be  true  or  not,  we  speak  but  by  hearsay,  and 


140 

people  ought  not  to  believe  every  thing.  Certain  it  is 
however,  that  every  saddler  in  the  town,  publicly  adver 
tises  himself  as  "  saddler  and  trimmer,"  whether  in 
allusion  to  his  politics  or  not,  we  cannot  say.  If  the 
first  be  the  case,  it  shows  a  most  profligate  state  of  pub 
lic  sentiment.  What  would  the  unchangeable,  inflexible 
patriots  of  New  York  and  Albany,  who  dont  turn  their 
coats  above  once  or  twice  a  year,  say  to  such  open 
profession  of  versatility. 

Nevertheless,  Poughkeepsie  abounds  in  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  the  works  of  nature,  always  excepting 
canvass  back  ducks,  or  geese  roasted  alive,  to  wit, 
scores  of  beautiful  damsels  ;  that  is,  if  nature  may  dis 
pute  with  a  French  milliner  the  honour  of  producing  a 
fashionable  woman,  or  a  woman  fashionably  accoutred. 
We  ourselves  sojourned  here,  ere  while,  that  is  to  say, 
some  five  and  thirty  years  ago,  and  have  not  yet  got  rid 
of  the  scars  of  certain  deep  wounds,  received  from  the 
sharp  glances  of  beauty's  eyes.  A  walk  on  the  romantic 
bluffs  which  overhang  the  river,  of  a  summer  evening, 
when  the  boats  are  gliding  noiselessly  by  at  our  feet; 
the  beautiful  landscape,  softening  in  the  touching  obscu 
rity  of  twilight ;  and  the  distant  peaks  of  the  Kaatskill, 
melting  into  nothing,  with  one  of  these  fair  damsels 
hanging  on  our  arm,  is  a  thing  to  be  remembered  for 
many  a  year,  a  mighty  pretty  morsel  to  put  into  "  time's 
wallet,"  only  its  apt  to  to  give  a  man  the  heart  ache  for 
at  least  ten  years  afterwards.  Many  an  invincible 
dandy  from  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  who  never  felt 
the  pangs  of  love,  except  for  his  own  dear  self,  has 
suffered  more  than  his  tailor,  from  one  of  these  evening 


141 

walks,  and  lived  to  lament  in  broadcloth  and  spatter 
dashes,  the  loss  of  such  sweet  communion,  such  inno 
cent,  yet  dangerous  delights.  As  the  prize  poet  says  : 

"  Past  times  are  half  remember'd  dreams  • 
The  future,  ev'n  at  best,  but  seems ; 
The  present  is — and  then — is  not ; 
Such  is  man — and  such  his  lot. 
Behind,  he  cannot  see  for  tears ; 
Before,  is  nought  but  hopes  and  fears  ; 
One  cheats  him  with  an  empty  bubble, 
The  other  always  pays  him  double. 
'Tis  a  vile  farce,  of  scenes  ideal, 
Where  nought  but  misery  is  real." 

From  Poughkeepsie  to  Hudson,  the  eastern  bank  of 
the  river  exhibits  a  uniform  character  of  picturesque 
beauty.  Villages  and  landing  places  at  the  mouths  of 
large  brooks,  are  scattered  at  distances  of  a  few  miles, 
and  all  is  cultivated  and  pastoral  repose.  The  western 
shore  is  more  bold  in  its  features,  bounded  at  intervals 
by  the  blue  peaks  of  the  Kaatskill  in  the  distance. 
Here  lies  Kingston,  already  risen  from  its  ruins,  and  ex 
hibiting  few  traces  of  that  wanton  and  foolish  barbarity 
which  stimulated  the  British  commander  to  set  fire  to  it, 
during  the  revolutionary  war.  Here  too,  lies  ATHENS, 
about  which  our  learned  Thebans  have  had  such  hot  dis 
putes  ;  some  maintaining  that  Boston,  others  that  Phi 
ladelphia,  and  others  that  New  York  was  the  real  Athens 
of  America.  In  vain  have  they  wasted  their  ink,  their 
time,  and  their  reader's  patience  on  the  theme.  Here 
lies  the  true  Athens  of  America,  unknown  and  unno 
ticed  by  the  learned,  who  are  always  looking  for  Baby- 


142 

Ion  at  Ninevah,  and  Ninevah  at  Babylon  ;  and  wasting 
mountains  of  erudition  in  searching  for  something  right 
under  their  nose,  like  the  great  bookworm  Magliabechi, 
who  spent  three  days  in  looking  for  a  pen,  which  he  car 
ried  in  his  mouth  all  the  time. 

What  is  it  constitutes  the  identity  of  a  man  ?  His 
name.  And  what,  we  would  ask,  constitutes  the  iden- 
ty  of  a  city  ?  The  same.  Would  New  York  be  New 
York,  or  Albany,  Albany — by  any  other  name ;  and 
would  any  thing  be  necessary  to  change  New  York  into 
Albany,  and  Albany  into  New  York,  except  to  ex 
change  their  names  ?  What  nonsense  is  it  then  for 
people  to  be  denying  that  Athens  is  Athens,  and  not 
Boston,  Philadelphia,  or  New  York,  which  had  better 
be  content  with  their  own  true  baptismal  names,  than  to 
be  usurping  those  of  other  cities.  We  trust  we  have 
settled  this  question  forever,  and  that  hereafter,  these 
great  overgrown,  upstart  cities  will  leave  our  little 
Athens  in  the  undisturbed  possession  of  its  name  and 
honours.  If  any  city  of  the  United  States  could  dis 
pute  this  matter  without  blushing,  it  would  assuredly  be 
New  York,  which  has  a  "  Pantheon,"  for  vending  oy 
sters  ;  an  "  Acropolis,"  for  ready  made  linen ;  an 
"  Athenian  Company,"  for  manufacturing  coarse  wool 
lens  ;  and  a  duck  pond,  called  the  Piraeus.  Nor  are 
Boston' and  Philadelphia  without  very  specious  claims  ; 
the  former  having  an  Athenaeum,  and  a  market  house, 
with  a  front  in  imitation  of  the  Temple  of  Minerva,  be 
cause  Minerva  is  the  goddess  of  wisdom,  and  all  mar 
ket  women  are  thrifty,  or  in  common  acceptation,  wise ; 
and  the  latter  has  its  two  magnificent  fanes  of  Plutus. 


143 

god  of  paper  money,  he  being  the  only  Pagan  divinity 
to  whom  the  Christians  erect  temples. 


KAATSKILL. 

Those  who  are  fond  of  climbing  mountains  in  a  hot 
day,  and  looking  down  till  their  heads  turn,  must  land 
at  the  village  of  Kaatskill,  whence  they  can  procure  a 
conveyance  to  the  hotel  at  Pine  Orchard,  three  thou 
sand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  river,  and  have  the 
pleasure  of  sleeping  under  blankets  in  the  dog  days. 
Here  the  picturesque  tourist  may  enjoy  a  prospect  of 
unbounded  extent  and  magnificence,  and  receive  a  les 
son  of  the  insignificance  of  all  created  things.  Stand- 
ingnear  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  he  looks  down,  and  no  object 
strikes  his  view,  except  at  a  distance  of  fifteen  hundred 
feet  below.  The  space  between  is  nothing  but  va 
cancy.  Crawling  far  below,  man  is  but  an  atom,  hardly 
visible ;  the  ox  is  but  a  mouse  ;  and  the  sheep  are  little 
white  specks  in  the  green  fields,  which  themselves  are 
no  bigger  than  the  glasses  of  a  pair  of  green  specta 
cles.  The  traveller  may  judge  of  the  insignificance 
even  of  the  most  sublime  objects,  when  told  that  a 
fashionable  lady's  hat  and  feathers  dwindles  in  the  dis 
tance  to  the  size  of  a  moderate  mushroom !  It  is,  we 
trust,  needless  to  caution  the  tourist  against  falling 
down  this  dizzy  steep,  as  in  all  probability  he  would 
come  to  some  harm. 

There  are  two  cascades  not  far  from  the  Pine  Or 
chard,  which  want  nothing  but  a  little  more  water  to  be 
wonderfully  sublime.  Generally  there  is  no  water  at 


144 

all,  but  the  proper  application  of  half  a  dollar,  will  set 
it  running  presently. 

"  Music*  has  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast, 
To  raise  flood  gates,  and  make  the  waters  flow." 

Messrs.  Wall  and  Cole,  two  fine  artists,  admirable  ill 
their  different,  we  might  almost  say,  opposite  styles, 
have  illustrated  the  scenery  of  the  Kaatskill,  by  more 
than  one  picture  of  singular  excellence.  We  should 
like  to  see  such  pictures  gracing  the  drawing  rooms  of 
the  wealthy,  instead  of  the  imported  trumpery  of  British 
naval  fights,  or  coloured  engravings,  and  above  all,  in 
the  place  of  that  vulgar,  tasteless,  and  inelegant  accu 
mulation  of  gilded  finery,  which  costs  more  than  a  do 
zen  fine  landscapes.  These  lovers  of  cut  glass  lamps, 
rose  wood  sofas,  and  convex  mirrors,  have  yet  to  learn 
that  a  single  bust  or  picture  of  a  master  adorns  and  en 
riches  the  parlour  of  a  gentleman,  in  the  eyes  of  a  well 
bred  person,  a  thousand  times  more  than  the  spoils  of 
half  a  dozen  fashionable  warehouses. 

But  after  all  there  is  nothing  in  this  world  like  a  good 
appetite  and  plenty  of  good  things  to  satisfy  or  satiate 
it ;  for  merely  to  satisfy  the  appetite  is  to  treat  it  as  one 
would  that  of  a  horse.  In  this  respect,  and  this  only 
in  our  estimation,  are  the  tops  of  high  mountains  enti* 
tied  to  consideration.  It  is  amazing  what  a  glorious 
propensity  to  eating  is  generated  by  the  keen  air  of 
these  respectable  protuberances.  People  have  beeji 

*  Music — figurative  for  the  jingling  of  silver — the  only  modern 
music  that  works  such  miracles. 


145 

known  to  eat  up  every  thing  in  the  house  at  a  meal,  and  re 
port  says  that  a  fat  waiter  once  disappeared  in  a  very  mys 
terious  manner.  The  stomach  expands  with  the  sub 
limity  and  expansion  of  the  prospect,  to  a  capacity 
equally  sublime,  and  the  worthy  landlord  at  the  Pine 
Orchard  (between  ourselves)  has  assured  us  that  he  has 
known  a  sickly  young  lady  who  was  travelling  for  an  appe 
tite,  discuss  venison  for  breakfast  like  an  alderman.  Cer 
tain  half  starved  critics,  will  without  doubt,  sharpen  their 
wits  as  sharp  as  their  appetites,  and  putting  grey  goose 
lance  in  rest,  tilt  at  us  terribly,  for  thus  exalting  the 
accomplishment  of  eating  above  all  others,  and  inciting 
people  to  inordinate  feats  of  the  trencher.  But  we  will 
shut  their  mouths  at  once  and  forever,  by  asking  the 
simple  question,  whether  the  sine  qua  non  of  rich  and 
idle  peoples'  comfort  and  happiness  is  not  exercise, 
without  which  they  cannot  enjoy  either  their  wealth 
or  their  leisure.  Having  answered  this  question  we 
Will  ask  them  another,  to  wit,  whether  there  be  any 
exercise,  not  to  say  hard  work,  equal  to  that  which 
the  inward  and  outward  man  undergoes  in  the  final 
disposal  of  a  sumptuous  dinner  or  supper  ?  How  he 
puffs,  and  blows,  and  sighs,  and  snoozes,  and  heaven 
forgive  us  !  belches ! — and  twists  and  turns,  neither  en 
joying  stillness  nor  motion,  until  he  has  quieted  this 
mighty  mass  of  ingredients.  In  short  it  is  the  hardest 
Oxercise  in  the  world,  and  of  course  must  be  highly 
beneficial  to  health.  This  is  what  constitutes  the  unri 
valled  excellence  of  eating,  and  its  superiority  over  all 
other  carnal  delights  ;  since  we  have  the  pleasures  of 
taste  in  the  first,  and  in  the  second,  the  benefit  of  harfl 
13 


146 

exercise  to  prepare  us  for  a  new  meal.  Hence  it  was, 
that  a  famous  eating  philosopher,  hearing  a  peasant  grum 
bling  that  he  could  not  like  him,  live  without  work,  re 
plied  in  the  following  extempore — 

"  I  labour  to  digest  one  dinner,  more 

Than  you,  you  blockhead,  do,  to  earn  a  score." 

"  The  town  of  Kaatskill,  and  the  neighbouring  coun 
try,"  observes  Alderman  Janson  in  his  manuscript  ana, 
"  is  the  seat  of  many  old  Dutch  families,  whose  an 
cestors  settled  there  in  the  olden  time.  Honest,  in 
dustrious  and  sober — what  a  noble  trio  of  virtues  !  they 
pursue  the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  and  would  continue 
to  do  so  for  generations  to  come,  were  it  not  for  the  late 
attempts  to  corrupt  them  with  canals  and  great  state 
roads  ;  and  above  all  by  locating  a  fashionable  hotel  in 
the  very  centre  of  their  strong  hold,  the  Kaatskill  Moun 
tain.  Since  the  introduction  of  these  pestilent  novel 
ties,  there  has  been  noticed  divers  rebellious  movements 
against  the  good  old  customs.  It  is  not  long  since,  that 
several  old  ladies  whose  descent  ought  to  have  forever 
saved  them  from  the  temptation  of  such  enormities, 
have  introduced  the  fashion  of  drinking  tea  by  candle 
light ;  and  a  young  fellow — a  genuine  descendant  of 
Rip  Van  Winckle — being  out  shooting,  met  a  Dutch 
damsel  in  a  fashionable  bonnet,  whereat  he  was  so 
frightened  that  he  fired  his  gun  at  random,  and  ran  home 
to  tell  his  mother  that  he  had  seen  a  strange  wild  beast 
that  looked  for  all  the  world  "  like  he  did'nt  know  what." 
It  is  a  sore  thing  to  see  the  good  old  customs  of  anti 
quity  thus  as  it  were  gradually  beateji  from  their  last 


147 

entrenchments  in  the  mountains.  All  this  comes  of 
steam  boats,  manufactories,  and  other  horrible  enormi 
ties  of  this  improving  age.  The  deplorable  consequen 
ces,  are  pathetically  exemplified  in  the  fate  of  pool- 
Squire  Yan  Gaasbeeck,  as  I  heard  it  related  by  one  of 
his  neighbours." 

"  Squire  Van  Gaasbeeck,  (which  means  goosebill  in 
English,)  was  for  fifty  good  years,  snugly  settled  on  his 
farm,  at  New  Paltz — happy  in  himself,  happy  in  his 
family,  and  happy  in  the  possession  of  three  hundred 
acres  of  the  best  land  in  the  county.  His  family  con 
sisted  of  a  wife,  a  son  and  two  daughters,  the  latter  of 
a  ripe  marriageable  age — Catharine  and  Rachel,  called 
in  the  familiar  Dutch  vernacular,  Teenie  and  Lockie. 
The  name  of  the  boy — as  they  called  him,  for  he  was 
"but  thirty — was  Yaup,  which  signifies  Jacob  in  English. 

"  The  daughters  spun  and  wove  the  linsey  woolsey 
and  linen ;  the  mother  with  their  help  made  them  up 
into  garments  for  the  squire  and  Yaup,  who  worked 
in  the  fields  sometimes  a  whole  day,  with  Primus  the 
black  boy,  without  exchanging  a  single  word.  Every 
year  Squire  Yan  Gaasbeeck  added  a  few  hundreds  to 
his  store  ;  every  year  the  governor  sent  him  a  commis 
sion  as  Justice  of  the  Peace  ;  and  every  year,  the 
daughters  added  to  their  reserve  of  linen  and  petticoats, 
deposited  in  the  great  oaken  chest,  with  a  spring 
lock,  for  the  happy  period  to  which  every  good  honest 
girl  looks  forward,  with  gentle  trepidation,  mixed  with 
inspiring  hopes.  There  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  these 
accumulations,  insomuch  that  it  is  said,  at  one  time, 
Teenie  and  Lockie,  could  each  muster  six  dozen  pah 


148 

of  sheets,  three  score  towels,  a  hundred  petticoats,  be 
sides  other  articles  which  shall  be  nameless — that  Yaup 
counted  shirts  innumerable — and  the  squire  himself  ac 
tually  mustered  seventy-six  pair  of  breeches,  good,  bad 
and  indifferent,  a  number  which  he  declared  he  never 
would  exceed,  he  being  an  old  seventy-sixer  to  the  back 
bone. 

"  Thus  the  old  squire's  barque  floated  swimmingly 
towards  the  dark  gulf  that  finally  swallows  up  man,  his 
motives,  his  actions,  and  his  memory,  when  in  an  evil 
hour,  a  manufactory  of  woollen,  was  established  in  his 
neighbourhood,  for  the  encouragement  of  'domestic 
industry,'  and  where  carding  and  spinning  and  weaving 
were  all  carried  on  by  that  arch  fiend  '  productive  labour.* 
Hereupon  all  the  women  in  twenty  miles  round,  threw 
down  the  distaff,  the  wool  cards,  and  the  shuttle,  main 
taining  that  it  was  much  better  to  leave  these  matters  to 
*  domestic  industry,'  and  '  productive  labour,'  than  to 
be  working  and  slaving  from  morning  till  night  at  home. 

"  'Hum,'  quoth  Squire  Van  Gaasbeeck,  'this  same 
domestic  industry,  and  productive  labour,  is  what  I  cant 
understand  ;  it  bids  fair  to  put  an  end  to  the  domestic 
industry  and  productive  labour  of  my  family  I  think.' 

"  A  great  political  economist  gave  him  copies  of  all 
the  speeches  made  in  Congress  on  the  subject,  amount 
ing  to  a  hundred  thousand  pages,  which  he  assured  him 
would  explain  the  manner  in  which  domestic  industry  and 
domestic  idleness,  could  be  proved  to  be  twin  sisters. 
The  squire  put  on  his  spectacles  and  began  to  read 
like  any  d — -1  incarnate  ;  but  before  he  got  half  through* 
he  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  of  the  tower  of  Babel  and 


149 

Confusion  of  tongues.  He  returned  the  books,  and  the 
economist  as  good  as  told  him  he  was  a  great  blockhead, 
f  It  may  be,'  quoth  the  squire,  '  but  not  all  the  speeches 
in  the  world  will  persuade  me  that  the  way  to  encourage 
domestic  industry  is  to  have  all  the  work  done  abroad.' 

"  Some  say  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil.  Of  this 
I  profess  myself  ignorant,  having  never  yet  had  enough 
to  do  me  much  harm.  Others,  affirm  that  idleness  is 
the  genuine  root,  and  I  believe  they  are  right.  From 
the  moment  the  squire's  wife  and  daughters  began  to  be 
idle  at  home,  they  began  to  hanker  after  a  hundred  out 
door  amusements  which  they  never  thought  of  before* 
They  must  go  down  to  Kaatskill  forsooth  to  buy  ribbons 
and  calicoes,  and  cotton  stockings,  and  what  not.  In 
short  they  never  wanted  an  excuse  for  gadding,  and  at 
last  reached  the  climax  of  enormity  in  actually  begin 
ning  to  talk  seriously  of  a  voyage  to  New  York.  The 
squire's  hair  stood  on  end,  for  at  that  happy  period,  a 
voyage  to  New  York  was  never  contemplated  except 
on  occasions  of  life  and  death.  The  city  was  talked  of 
"as  of  a  place  afar  off,  accessible  only  to  a  chosen  few$ 
and  the  fortunate  being  who  had  visited  it,  acquired  an 
importance  equal  to  that  of  a  Musselman  who  has  made 
the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  He  might  lawfully  assume- 
the  traveller's  privilege  of  telling  as  many  lies  as  he 
pleased. 

"  '  This  comes  of  domestic  industry  and  productive 
labour,'  quoth  the  squire,  who  was  still  the  better  horse 
at  home,  and  put  a  flat  negative  on  the  project,  for 
which  he  got  a  good  many  sour  looks.  But  his  misfor 
tunes  were  not  to  end  here.  About  this  time,  one  of 
13* 


150 

those  diabolical  inventions  which  set  all  the  world  gad 
ding,  appeared  in  the  shape  of  a  steam  boat,  smoking 
and  puffing  her  way  up  to  Albany.  In  a  little  while  she 
was  followed  by  others,  so  that  at  length  it  came  to  pass, 
that  people  could  go  from  Kaatskill  to  New  York,  and 
back  again  in  less  than  no  time,  for  nothing.  Some 
threescore  and  ten  of  the  squire's  cousins  to  the  sixth 
degree,  taking  advantage  of  these  facilities,  came  up 
from  New  York  to  see  him,  and  some  half  a  dozen, 
staid  all  summer.  Now  the  least  they  could  do,  was  to 
ask  the  squire's  wife  and  daughters  to  visit  them  in  the 
autumn  in  return.  The  squire  was  assailed  so  resolute 
ly  for  his  permission  to  accept  this  polite  offer,  that  at 
last  his  obstinacy  gave  way,  like  a  mill  dam,  in  a  great 
freshet  and  carried  every  thing  before  it.  Madam  Van 
Gaasbeeck,  and  Teenie  and  Lockie  packed  up  all  their 
petticoats,  and  getting  on  board  of  the  steam  boat,  at 
the  risk  of  their  necks,  under  the  protection  of  the 
young  Squire  Yaup,  paddled  down  to  New  York  as 
merry  as  fiddlers. 

"  At  the  same  time  the  squire,  in  imitation  of  Mare 
Antony,  or  somebody  else  that  he  never  heard  of,  I  be 
lieve,  almost  loaded  one  of  the  Kaatskill  sloops,  with, 
pigs,  potatoes,  and  other  market  stuffs,  the  whole  pro 
duct  of  which  was  to  be  turned  over  to  the  ladies  for 
pin  money.  To  the  young  squire  he  entrusted  a  more 
important  business.  He  had  just  closed  a  bargain  with 
a  merchant  in  New  York,  who  had  once  lived  next  door 
to  him  in  New  Paltz,  for  a  fine  farm,  on  which  he  in 
tended  to  settle  Yaup  when  he  got  married,  and  now 
entrusted  him  with  threc^  thousand  dollarst  to  pay  for  if. 


151 

agreeably  to  contract.     Squire  Van  Gaasbeeck  was  not 
a  man  to  owe  a  shilling  longer  than  he  could  help  it. 

"  The  party  arrived  in  New  York  without  any  acci 
dent,  the  steam  boat  not  blowing  up  that  trip,  and  were 
received  by  the  cousins  and  second  cousins  as  if  they 
were  quite  welcome.  But  terrible  was  the  work  the 
city  cousins  made  with  the  costume  of  Madam  Van 
Gaasbeeck  and  the  young  ladies.  It  was  all  condemn 
ed,  like  a  parcel  of  slops  eaten  up  by  cockroaches,  and 
the  produce  of  the  pigs,  potatoes,  and  pumpkins  melted 
irretrievably  in  one  single  excursion  into  Cheapside.  For 
the  town  cousins  would  by  no  means  be  seen  in  Broadway 
with  the  country  cousins,  and  accordingly  took  them  up  to 
Cheapside,  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  where  the  shop 
keeper,  taking  advantage  of  the  obscurity,  cheated  them 
finely.  Being  equipt  in  grand  costume,  they  were  ta 
ken  to  the  play — it  was  Peter  Wilkins — where  the  old 
lady  declared,  that  "  it  was  all  one  as  a  puppet  show," 
and  came  very  near  fainting  under  the  infliction  of  a 
pair  of  corsetts,  with  which  the  city  cousins  had  invest 
ed  her.  The  young  squire,  feeling  the  importance  of 
Uaving  money  in  his  pocket,  had  delayed  to  pay  over 
the  three  thousand  dollars,  and  carried  it  with  him  to 
the  play,  in  a  leather  pocket  book.  Impressed  with 
the  weight  of  his  charge,  he  was  continually  put- 
ling  his  hand  behind  him  to  feel  that  all  was  safe,  inso- 
loouch  that  he  caught  the  attention  of  a  worthy  gentle 
man,  who  was  prowling  about,  seeking  whom  he  might 
devour.  He  attached  himself  to  Master  Yaup  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening,  and  in  the  crowd  of  the  lobby 
out,  took  occasion  to  eiasc  him  of  the  black  leir- 


152 

Uier  pocket  book,  without  his  being  the  wiser  for  it,  till 
he  got  home*  It  was  never  recovered,  notwithstanding 
all  the  exertions  of  that  terror  of  evil  doers,  High  Con 
stable  Hays.  This  is  one  of  the  great  conveniences  of 
paper  money — a  man  may  put  a  fortune  in  his  pocket. 
Had  the  three  thousand  dollars  been  in  specie,  Yaup 
could  not  have  carried  them  to  the  play. 

"  Here  was  a  farm  gone  at  one  blow.  But  this  was 
not  the  worst.  The  good  wife  and  daughters  came 
home  with  loads  of  finery,  and  loads  of  wants  they 
never  knew  before.  There  was  the  deuce  to  pay  at 
the  church  in  New  Paltz,  the  first  time  they  appeaiv 
ed.  The  church  would  hardly  hold  their  bonnets, 
and  the  parson  was  struck  dumb,  insomuch  that  he 
gave  out  the  wrong  psalm,  which  the  clerk  set  to  a 
wrong  tune.  Mercy  upon  us  what  heart  burnings  were 
here !  Not  one  of  the  congregation  could  tell  where 
the  text  was  when  they  got  home. 

"  Squire  Van  Gaasbeeck  had  now  a  farm  to  pay  for, 
and  wanted  every  penny  he  could  scrape  together  to 
make  both  ends  meet.  But  the  shopping  to  Kaatskill 
went  on  worse  than  ever,  and  besides  this,  almost  every 
Week  the  sloop  brought  up  some  article  of  finery  from 
New  York,  which  the  city  cousins  assured  them  had 
just  come  into  fashion.  In  short,  the  squire  now,  for 
the  first  time,  felt  his  spirit  bowed  down  to  the  earth 
under  the  consciousness  that  he  owed  money  which  he 
could  not  pay. 

"  In  the  progress  of  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  the 
march  of  mind,  it  came  to  pass  that  certain  public  spi 
rited  people,  procured  a  charter,  and  set  up  a  bank  at 


153 

Kaatskill,  for  the  good  of  mankind.  The  squire  in 
good  time  was  set  upon  by  one  of  the  directors,. who 
smelt  out  that  he  wanted  money,  and  persuaded  him  to 
take  up  a  couple  of  thousands  of  the  bank,  with  the  aid 
of  which  he  could  make  such  improvements  on  his  new 
purchase,  as  would  enable  him  to  sell  it  for  twice  as 
much  as  it  cost.  The  squire  was  not  the  man  he  once 
was.  His  sturdy  independent  spirit,  that  scorned  the 
idea  of  a  debt,  was  broken  down.  He  borrowed  the 
money,  improved  the  farm,  and  finally  sold  it  to  this 
very  honest  director,  at  a  great  profit.  The  director 
paid  him  in  notes  of  the  new  bank,  and  the  very  next 
day  conveyed  the  farm  to  somebody  else.  Squire  Van 
Gaasbeeck  was  now  rich  again.  He  determined  to  go 
the  next  day  and  pay  all  his  debts,  and  be  a  man  once 
more. 

"  But  unluckily,  that  same  night  the  bank,  and  all 
things  therein,  evaporated.  The  house  was  found  shut 
up  next  morning,  and  all  the  books,  papers,  notes,  and 
directors  gone  no  one  knew  whither,  although  it  was 

the  general  opinion,  the  d 1  had  possession  of  the 

directors.  This  blow  half  ruined  Squire  Van  Gaas 
beeck,  and  Yaup  gave  the  finishing  blow  by  striking 
work,  and  swearing  he  would  no  longer  battle  with  the 
"  spirit  of  the  age,  and  the  march  of  public  improve 
ment,"  which  decreed  he  should  be  a  gentleman.  Fi 
nally  to  make  an  end  of  my  story,  the  squire  was  turn 
ed  out  of  his  farm  by  his  creditors — his  wife  died  of  hei 
corsetts — the  young  ladies  were  fain  to  tend  the  spin 
ning  jenny  at  the  neighbouring  manufactory — Master 


154 

Yawp  became  a  gentleman  commoner,  left  the  home  of 
his  ancestors,  and  was  never  heard  of  more. 

"  An  old  acquaintance  one  day  came  to  see  the  squire, 
now  living  on'  the  charity  of  his  brother  in  law,  and  in 
quired  how  he  came  to  be  in  such  a  state.  *  Ah !' 
replied  he  with  a  sigh,  *  I  was  half  ruined  by  domestic 
industry  and  productive  labour ;  but  the  spirit  of  the 
age  in  conjunction  with  the  march  of  public  improve 
ment  finished  me  at  last.' " 


HUDSON. 

'  "  A  very  respectable  town,  or  rather  city,"  says* 
Alderman  Janson :  "so  called  after  the  renowned 
Hendrick  Hudson  of  blessed  memory.  It  is  opposite 
to  Athens,  and  ought  to  have  been  noticed  immediately 
after  it.  But  if  the  traveller  wishes  particularly  to  view 
the  city,  he  has  only  to  mention  his  desire,  and  the 
steam  boat  will  turn  back  with  him,  for  they  are  very 
obliging.  Hudson  furnishes  one  of  those  examples  of 
rapid  growth  so  common  and  so  peculiar  to  our  country. 
It  goes  back  no  farther  than  1786,  and  is  said  now  to 
contain  nearly  2000  inhabitants.  But  towns,  like  children, 
are  very  apt  to  grow  more  in  the  few  first  years,  than 
all  their  lives  after.  But  Hudson  has  a  bank,  which  is 
a  sort  of  wet  nurse  to  these  little  towns,  giving  them  too 
often  a  precocious  growth,  which  is  followed  by  a  per 
manent  debility.  The  town  is  beautifully  situated, 
and  the  environs  of  the  most  picturesque  and  romantic 
description.  There  arc  several  pretty  country  seats 
in  the  neighbourhood.  Here  ctids,  according  to  the 


155 

law  of  nature,  the  ship  navigation  of  the  river ;  but 
5y  a  law  of  the  legislature,  a  company  has  been  incor 
porated  with  a  capital  of  1,000,000  of  dollars — how 
easy  it  is  to  coin  money  in  this  way ! — to  make  a  canal 
to  New  Baltimore  ;  for  what  purpose,  only  legislative 
wisdom  can  explain.  There  was  likewise  an  incorpo 
rated  company,  to  build  a  mud  machine  for  deepening 
the  river.  But  the  river  is  no  deeper  than  it  was,  and 
the  canal  to  New  Baltimore  is  not  made,  probably  be 
cause  the  million  of  dollars  is  not  forthcoming.  One 
may  pay  too  dear  for  a  canal  as  well  as  a  whistle.  That 
canals  are  far  better  than  rivers,  is  not  to  be  doubted  ; 
but  as  we  get  our  rivers  for  nothing,  and  pay  pretty 
dearly  for  our  canals,  I  would  beg  leave  to  represent  in 
behalf  of  the  poor  rivers,  that  they  are  entitled  to  some 
Httle  consideration,  if  it  is  only  on  the  score  of  coming 
as  free  gifts.  Hudson  is  said  to  be  very  much  infested 
with  politicians,  a  race  of  men,  who  though  they  have 
never  been  classed  among  those  who  live  by  their  own 
wits,  and  the  little  wit  of  their  neighbours,  certainly 
belong  to  the  genus." 

From  hence  to  Albany  the  Hudson  gradually  de 
creases  in  magnitude,  changing  its  character  of  a 
mighty  river  for  that  of  a  pleasant  pastoral  stream.  The 
high  banks  gradually  subside  into  rich  flats,  portentous  of 
Dutchmen,  who  light  on  them  as  certainly  as  do  the 
snipes  and  plovers.  "  Wisely  despising,"  observes 
Alderman  Janson,  "  the  barren  mountains  which  are 
only  made  to  look  at,  they  passed  on  up  the  river  from 
Fort  Amsterdam,  till  they  arrived  hereabouts,  and  here 
they  pitched  their  tents.  Their  descendants  still  retajn 


156 

possession  of  the  seats  of  their  ancestors,  though  sorely 
beset  by  the  march  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  progress 
of  public  improvement  on  one  hand,  and  on  the  other 
by  interlopers  from  the  modern  Scythia,  the  cradle  of  the 
human  race  in  the  new  world,  Connecticut.  These  last, 
by  their  pestilent  scholarship,  and  mischievous  contri 
vances  of  patent  ploughs,  patent  threshing  machines, 
patent  corn  shelters,  and  patent  churns,  for  the  en 
couragement  of  domestic  industry,  have  gone  near  to 
overset  all  the  statutes  of  St.  Nicholas.  The  honest 
burghers  of  Coeymans,  Coxsackie  and  New  Paltz,  still 
hold  out  manfully  ;  but  alas  !  the  women — the  women 
are  prone  to  backslidings,  and  hankering  after  novelties. 
A  Dutch  damsel  cant,  for  her  heart,  resist  a  Connec 
ticut  schoolmaster  with  his  rosy  cheeks  and  store  of 
scholarship  ;  and  even  honest  yflfrow  herself  chuckles  a 
little  amatory  Dutch  at  his  approach ;  simpering  mightily 
thereat  and  stroking  down  her  apron.  A  goose  betrayed 
—no  I  am  wrong — a  goose  once  saved  the  capitol  of 
Rome  ;  and  it  is  to  be  feared  a  woman  will  finally  betray 
the  citadels  of  Coeymans,  Coxsackie  and  New  Paltz, 
to  the  schoolmasters  of  Connecticut,  who  circumvent 
them  with  outlandish  scholarship.  These  speculations," 
quoth  the  worthy  alderman,*  "  remind  me  of  the  mishap 

*  We  ought,  long  before  this,  to  have  apprised  the  reader,  that  Al 
derman  Nicholas  Nicodemus  Janson,  was  the  flower  of  the  magistracy 
of  Coxsackie,  and  died  full  of  years  and  honour,  on  his  patron  St. 
Nicholas'  day,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  twenty-seven.  He  was  our  great  uncle  by  the  mother's  side,  and 
many  are  the  happy  days  we  remember  to  have  passed  in  his  honest 
old  Dutch  house,  which,  according  to  custom,  has  lately  been  turned 
into  a  tavern.  He  was  indisputably  the  greatest  scholar  of  the  age? 


137 

of  my  unfortunate  great  uncle,  Douw  Van  Wezel,  who 
sunk  under  the  star  of  one  of  these  wandering  Homers. 
"  Douw,  and  little  Alida  Vander  Spiegle,  had  been 
playmates  since  their  infancy — I  was  going  to  say 
schoolmates,  but  at  that  time  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  a  school,  so  far  as  I  can  learn  in  the  neighbourhood, 
to  teach  the  young  varlets  to  chalk  naughty  words  on 
walls  and  fences,  which  is  all  that  learning  is  good  for, 
for  aught  I  see.  Douw  was  no  scholar,  so  there  was 

in  the  opinion  of  his  neighbours,  who  ought  to  know  him  best ;  and 
compared  with  divers  great  authors  of  the  present  times,  of  whom  he 
was  wont  to  say,  that  he  furnished  one  with  all  the  botany,  and  an 
other  with  all  the  geology  they  ever  had  in  their  lives.  He  left  be 
hind  him  twenty-six  large  volumes  of  manuscripts,  which  he  devised 
to  the  writer  of  this  book,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  In  special  token  of  his 
affectionate  remembrance,  considering  them  as  by  far  the  most  valuable 
of  his  possessions."  The  rest  of  the  heirs  never  disputed  the  legacy; 
and  what  is  very  remarkable,  the  executors  paid  it  over  to  us  with  most 
unaccountable  promptitude,  while  some  of  the  unfortunate  legatees 
remain  unpaid  to  this  day.  These  gentlemen  will  be  astonished,  if 
not  mortified  to  hear,  that  we  have  lately  been  offered  more  for  these 
invaluable  manuscripts,  than  all  the  rest  of  the  worthy  alderman's 
property  is  worth.  But  we  disdain  to  sell  what  was  bestowed  upon 
us  freely ;  and  it  is  our  intention  when  we  are  grown  too  old  to  travel, 
to  publish  the  whole  twenty- six  volumes  under  the  title  of  "  Reminis 
cences,"  at  our  own  expense,  charging  the  public  nothing  for  the 
insides,  and  only  two  dollars  a  volume  for  the  binding.  To  the 
which  we  are  vehemently  incited  by  the  example  of  a  certain  worthy 
of  Coxsackie,  who  being  desirous  the  public  should  enjoy  the  full  be 
nefit  of  a  famous  nostrum  of  his  for  the  cure  of  all  things,  did  actually 
give  away  the  said  nostrum  for  nothing,  only  charging  four  shillings 
for  the  bottles.  Whereby  all  the  country  was  cured,  without  any 
expense,  and  the  worthy  philanthropist  got  rich  with  a  clear  con 
science. 

14 


158 

uo  danger  of  his  getting  into  the  state  prison  for  forgery  * 
but  it  requires  but  little  learning  to  fall  in  love.  Alicia 
had  however  staid  a  whole  winter  in  York,  where  she 
learned  to  talk  crooked  English,  and  cock  her  pretty 
little  pug  nose  at  our  good  old  customs.  They  were  the 
only  offspring  of  their  respective  parents,  whose  farms 
lay  side  by  side,  squinting  plainly  at  matrimony  between 
the  young  people.  Douw  and  Alida,  went  to  church  to 
gether  every  Sunday  ;  wandered  into  the  church  yard, 
where  Alida  read  the  epitaphs  for  him  ;  and  it  was  the 
talk  of  every  body  that  it  would  certainly  be  a  match. 
Douw  was  a  handsome  fellow  for  a  Dutchman,  though 
he  lacked  that  effeminate  ruddiness  which  seduces  poor 
ignorant  women.  He  had  a  stout  frame,  a  bluish  com 
plexion,  strait  black  hair,  eyes  of  the  colour  of  indigo, 
and  as  honest  a  pair  of  old  fashioned  mahogany  bannis 
ter  legs,  as  you  would  wish  to  see  under  a  man.  It 
was  worth  while  to  make  good  legs  then,  when  every 
-man  wore  breeches,  and  some  of  the  women  too,  if 
report  is  to  be  credited.  Alida  was  the  prettiest  little 
Dutch  damsel  that  ever  had  her  stocking  filled  with 
cakes  on  new  year's  eve,  by  the  blessed  St.  Nicholas. 
I  will  not  describe  her,  lest  my  readers  should  all  fall  in 
love  with  her,  or  at  all  events  weep  themselves  into 
Saratoga  fountains,  when  they  come  to  hear  of  the  dis 
astrous  fate  of  poor  Douw,  whose  destiny  it  was — but 
let  us  have  no  anticipations  ;  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof. 

"  It  was  new  year's  eve,  and  Douw  was  invited  to 
see  out  the  old  year  at  Judge  Yander  Spiegle's,  in  the 
honest  old  Dutch  way,  under  the  special  patronage  of 


159 

St.  Nicholas,  to  whom  whoever  fails  in  due  honour  and 
allegiance,  this  be  his  fate  :  never  to  sip  the  dew  from 
the  lips  of  the  lass  he  loveth  best  on  new  year's  eve,  or 
new  year's  morn ;-  never  to  taste  of  hot  spiced  Santa 
Cruz ;  and  never  to  know  the  delights  of  mince  pies  and 
sausages,  swimming  in  the  sauce  of  honest  mirth,  and 
homefelt  jollity.  St.  Nicholas  !  thrice  jolly  St.  Nicho 
las  !  Bacchus  of  Christian  Dutchmen,  king  of  good 
fellows,  patron  of  holiday  fare,  inspirer  of  simple  frolic 
and  unsophisticated  happiness,  saint  of  all  saints  thai 
deck  the  glorious  calender!  thou  that  first  awakenest  the 
hopes  of  the  prattling  infant ;  dawnest  anticipated  hap 
piness  on  the  school  boy  ;  and  brightenest  the  wintry 
hours  of  manhood,  if  I  forget  thee  whatever  betide,  or 
whatever  fantastic,  heartless  follies  may  usurp  the 
place  of  thy  simple  celebration,  may  I  lose  with  the 
recollection  of  past  pleasures,  the  anticipation  of  plea 
sures  to  come,  yawn  at  a  tea  party,  petrify  at  a  soiree, 
and  perish,  finally  overwhelmed,  in  a  deluge  of  whip 
syllabub  and  floating  island  !  Thrice,  and  three  times 
thrice,  jolly  St.  Nicholas!  on  this,  the  first  day  of  the 
new  year  1826,  with  an  honest  reverence  and  a  full 
bumper  of  cherry  bounce,  I  salute  thee  !  lo  St.  Nicho 
las  !  Esto  perpetua ! 

"  There  were  glorious  doings  at  the  judge's  among  the 
young  folks,  and  the  old  ones  too,  for  that  matter,  till 
one  or  two  or  perhaps  three  in  the  morning,  when  the 
visiters  got  into  their  sleighs  and  skirred  away  home 
leaving  Douw  and  the  fair  Alida,  alone,  or  as  good  as 
alone,  for  the  judge  and  the  yffrow,  were  as  sound  as  a 
church,  in  the  two  chimney  corners.  If  wine,  and 


160 

French  liqueurs,  and  such  trumpery  make  a  man  gallant 
and  adventurous,  what  will  not  hot  spiced  Santa  Cruz 
achieve  ?  Douw  was  certainly  a  little  flustered — per 
haps  it  might  be  predicated  of  him  that  he  was  as  it  were 
a  little  tipsey.  Certain  it  is  he  waxed  brave  as  a  Dutch 
lion.  I'll  not  swear  but  that  he  put  his  arm  round  her 
waist,  and  kissed  the  little  Dutch  girl — but  I  will  swear 
positively  that  before  the  parties  knew  whether  they 
were  standing  on  their  heads  or  feet,  they  had  exchanged 
vows,  and  became  irrevocably  engaged.  Whereupon 
Douw  waked  the  old  judge,  and  asked  his  consent  on 
the  spot.  '  Yaw,  yaw' — yawned  the  judge,  and  fell  fast 
asleep  again  in  a  twinkling.  Nothing  but  the  last  trum 
pet  would  rouse  the  yffrow  till  morning. 

"  In  the  morning,  the  good  yffrow  was  let  into  the 
affair,  and  began  to  bestir  herself  accordingly.  I 
cannot  count  the  sheets,  and  table  cloths,  and  tow 
els,  the  good  woman  mustered  out,  nor  describe  the 
preparations  made  for  the  expected  wedding.  There 
was  a  cake  baked,  as  big  as  Kaatskill  Mountain,  and 
mince  pies  enough  to  cover  it.  There  were  cakes  of  a 
hundred  nameless  names,  and  sweet  meats  enough  to 
kill  a  whole  village.  .  All  was  preparation,  anticipation, 
and  prognostication.  A  Dutch  tailor  had  constructed 
Douw  a  suit  of  snuff  colour,  that  made  him  look  like  a 
great  roll  of  leaf  tobacco  ;  and  a  York  milliner  had  ex 
ercised  her  skill  in  the  composition  of  a  wedding  dress 
for  AJida,  that  made  the  hair  of  the  girls  of  Coeymans, 
and  Coxsackie  stand  on  end.  All  was  ready  and  the 
day  appointed.  But  alas  !  I  wonder  no  one  has  yet  had 
the  sagacity  to  observe,  and  proclaim  to  the  world,  that 


161 

all  things  in  this  life  are  uncertain,  and  that  the  anticipa 
tions  of  youth  are  often  disappointed. 

"  Just  three  weeks  before  the  wedding,  there  appear 
ed  in  the  village  of  Coxsackie  a  young  fellow,  dressed 
in  a  three  cornered  cocked  hat,  a  queue  at  least  a  yard 
long  hanging  from  under  it,  tied  up  in  an  eel  skin,  a 
spruce  blue  coat,  not  much  the  worse  for  wear,  a  red 
waistcoat,  corderoy  breeches,  handsome  cotton  stock 
ings  with  a  pair  of  good  legs  in  them,  and  pumps  with 
silver  buckles.  His  arrival  was  like  the  shock  of  an 
earthquake,  he  being  the  first  stranger  that  had  appeared 
within  the  memory  of  man.  He  was  of  a  goodly  height, 
well  shaped,  and  had  a  pair  of  rosy  cheeks,  which  no 
Dutch  damsel  ever  could  resist,  for  to  say  the  truth,  our 
Dutch  lads  are  apt  to  be  a  little  dusky  in  the  Epidermis. 

"  He  gave  out  that  he  was  come  to  set  up  a  school, 
and  teach  the  little  chubby  Dutch  boys  and  girls  English. 
The  men  set  their  faces  against  this  monstrous  innova- 
vation  ;  but  the  women  !  the  women  !  they  always  will 
run  after  novelty,  and  they  ran  after  the  schoolmaster, 
his  red  cheeks  and  his  red  waistcoat.  Yffrow  Vander 
Spiegle,  contested  the  empire  of  the  world  within  doors 
with  his  honour  the  judge,  and  bore  a  divided  reign. 
She  was  smitten  with  a  desire  to  become  a  blue  stocking 
herself  or  at  least  that  her  daughter  should.  The  yffrow 
was  the  bell  weather  of  fashion  in  the  village  ;  of  course 
many  other  yffrows  followed  her  example,  and  in  a  little 
time  the  lucky  schoolmaster  was  surrounded  by  half  the 
grown  up  damsels  of  Coxsackie. 

"  Alida  soon  became  distinguished  as  his  favourite 
scholar ;  she  was  the  prettiest,  the  richest  girl  in  the 
14* 


162 

school — and  she  could  talk  English,  which  the  others 
were  only  just  learning.  He  taught  her  to  read  poetry 
— he  taught  her  to  talk  with  her  eyes — to  write  love 
letters — and  at  last  to  love.  Douw  was  a  lost  man  the 
moment  the  schoolmaster  came  into  the  village.  He 
first  got  the  blind  side  of  the  daughter,  and  then  of  the 
yffrow — but  he  found  it  rather  a  hard  matter  to  get  the 
blind  side  of  the  judge,  who  had  heard  from  his  brother 
in  Albany,  what  pranks  these  Connecticut  boys  were 
playing  there.  He  discouraged  the  schoolmaster  ;  and 
he  encouraged  Douw  to  press  his  suit,  which  Alicia  had 
put  off,  and  put  off,  from  time  to  time.  She  was  sick — 
— and  not  ready — and  indifferent — and  sometimes  as 
cross  as  a  little  d 1.  Douw  smoked  his  pipe  hard 
er  than  ever  at  her — but  she  resisted  like  a  heroine. 

"  In  those  times  of  cheap  simplicity,  it  was  the  cus 
tom  of  the  country  for  the  schoolmaster  to  board  alter 
nately  with  the  parents  of  his  scholars,  a  week  or  a 
fortnight  at  a  time,  and  it  is  recorded  of  these  learned 
Thebans,  that  they  always  staid  longest  where  there  was  a 
pretty  daughter,  and  plenty  of  pies  -and  sweetmeats.  The 
time  at  last  came  round,  when  it  was  the  schoolmaster's 
turn  to  sojourn  with  Judge  Vander  Spieglc  the  allotted 
fortnight,  sorely  to  the  gloomy  forebodements  of  Douw, 
who  began  to  have  a  strong  suspicion  of  the  cause 
of  Alida's  coldness.  The  schoolmaster  knew  which 
side  his  bread  was  buttered,  and  laid  close  siege  to  the 
yffrow,  by  praising  her  good  things,  exalting  her  con 
sequence,  and  depressing  that  of  her  neighbours.  Nor 
did  he  neglect  the  daughter,  whom  he  plied  with  poetry, 
melting  looks,  significant  squeezes,  and  all  that — al- 


163 

though  all  that  was  quite  unnecessary,  for  she  was  rea 
dy  to  run  away  with  him  at  any  time.  But  this  did  not 
suit  our  Homer  ;  he  might  be  divorced  from  the  acres, 
if  he  married  without  the  consent  of  the  judge.  He 
however  continued  to  administer  fuel  to  the  flame,  and 
never  missed  abusing  poor  Douw  to  his  face,  without 
the  latter  being  the  wiser  for  it,  he  not  understanding  a 
word  of  English. 

"  By  degrees  he  opened  the  matter  to  the  yffrow, 
who  liked  it  exceedingly,  for  she  was,  as  we  said  be 
fore,  inclined  to  the  mysteries  of  blue  stockingism,  and 
was  half  in  love  with  his  red  waistcoat  and  red  cheeks. 
Finally,  she  told  him,  in  a  significant  way,  that  as  there 
was  two  to  one  in  his  favour,  and  the  old  judge  would, 
she  knew,  never  consent  to  the  marriage  while  he  could 
help  it,  the  best  thing  he  could  do  was  to  go  and  get 
married  as  soon  as  possible,  and  she  would  bear  them 
out.  Tnat  very  night  Douw  became  a  disconsolate 
widower,  although,  poor  fellow,  he  did  not  know  of  it 
till  the  next  morning.  The  judge  stormed  and  swore, 
and  the  yffrow  talked,  till  at  length  he  allowed  them  to 
come  and  live  in  the  house,  but  with  the  proviso  that 
they  were  never  to  speak  to  him,  nor  he  to  them.  A 
little  grandson  in  process  of  time,  healed  all  these  in 
ternal  divisions.  They  christened  him  Adrian  Vander 
Spiegle,  after  his  grandfather,  and  when  it  came  to  pass 
that  the  old  patriarch  died,  the  estate  passed  from  the 
Vander  Spiegles  to  the  Longfellows,  after  the  manner 
of  men. 

"  Poor  Douw  grew  melancholy,  and  pondered  some 
times  whether  he  should  not  bring  his  action  for  breach 


164 

of  promise,  fly  the  country  forever,  turn  Methodist,  or 
marry  under  the  nose  of  the  faithless  Alida,  *  on  pur 
pose  to  spite  her.7  He  finally  decided  on  the  latter, 
married  a  little  Dutch  brunette  from  Kinderhook,  and 
prospered  mightily  in  posterity,  as  did  also  his  neigh 
bour,  Philo  Longfellow.  But  it  was  observed,  that  the 
little  Van  Wezels  and  the  little  Longfellows  never  met 
without  fighting ;  and  that  as  they  grew  up,  this  hostility 
gathered  additional  bitterness.  In  process  of  time,  the 
village  became  divided  into  two  factions,  which  gradu 
ally  spread  wherever  the  Yankees  and  the  Dutch  mixed 
together ;  and  finally,  like  the  feuds  of  the  Guelphs 
and  Ghibelines,  divided  the  land  for  almost  a  hundred 
miles  round." 


ALBANY. 

Leaving  Coxsackie,  the  traveller  gradually  ap 
proaches  those  rich  little  islands  and  fiats,  beloved  by 
the  honest  Dutchmen  of  all  parts  of  the  world,  and 
elsewhere,  in  the  midst  of  which  are  seen  the  long  com 
fortable  brick  mansions  of  the  Cuylers,  the  Schuylers. 
the  Van  Rensselaers,  and  others  of  the  patroons  of  an 
cient  times.  "  I  never  see  one  of  these,"  quoth 
Alderman  Janson,  "  without  picturing  to  myself  the 
plentiful  breakfasts,  solid  dinners,  and  manifold  evening 
repasts,  which  have  been  and  still  are  discussed  in 
these  comfortable  old  halls,  guiltless  of  folding  doors 
and  marble  mantel  pieces,  and  all  that  modern  trumpe 
ry  which  starves  the  kitchen  to  decorate  the  parlour, 
and  robs  the  stranger  of  his  hospitable  welcome  to  be- 


165 

stow  upon  superfluous  trumpery.  I  never  think  of 
the  picture  so  delightfully  drawn  by  Mrs  Grant,  in  the 
c  Memoirs  of  an  American  Lady,'  of  the  noble  patri* 
archal  state  of  '  Uncle  Schuyler'  and  his  amiable  wife, 
without  contrasting  it  with  the  empty,  vapid,  mean,  and 
selfish  pageantry  of  the  present  time,  which  satiates 
itself  with  the  paltry  vanity  of  display,  and  stoops  to  all 
the  dirty  drudgery  of  brokerage  and  speculation,  to  ga 
ther  wealth,  only  to  excite  the  gaping  wonder,  or  secret 
envy  of  vulgar  rivals.  By  St.  Nicholas,  the  patron  of 
good  fellows,  but  the  march  of  the  human  intellect  is 
sometimes  like  a  crab,  backwards  !" 

"  The  city  of  Albany,"  continues  the  worthy  alder 
man,  "  was  founded,  not  by  Mars,  Neptune,  Minerva, 
or  Vulcan,  nor  any  of  the  wandering  vagabond  gods  of 
ancient  times.  Neither  does  it  owe  its  origin  to  a  run 
away  hero  like  JEneas,  nor  a  runaway  debtor,  like  a 
place  that  shall  be  nameless.  Its  first  settlers  were  a 
race  of  portly  burghers  from  old  Holland,  who  sailing 
up  the  river  in  search  of  a  resting  place,  and  observing 
how  the  rich  flats  invited  them  as  it  were  to  their  fat  and 
fruitful  bowers,  landed  thereabouts,  lighted  their  pipes, 
and  began  to  build  their  tabernacles  without  saying  one 
word.  Tradition  also  imports,  that  they  were  some 
what  incited  to  this,  by  seeing  divers  large  and  stately 
sturgeons  jumping  up  out  of  the  river  as  they  are  wont 
to  do,  most  incontinently  in  these  parts.  These  stur 
geons  are,  when  properly  disguised  by  cookery,  so  that 
you  cannot  tell  what  they  are,  most  savoury  and  excel 
lent  food,  although  there  is  no  truth  in  the  story  hatched 
by  the  pestilent  descendants  of  Philo  Longfellow,  that 


166 

the  flesh  of  the  sturgeon  is  called  Albany  beef,  and  thai 
it  is  sometimes  served  up  at  Rockwell's,  Cruttenden's, 
and  other  favourite  resorts  of  tourists,  as  veal  cutlets. 
Out  upon  such  slanders  !  By  St.  Nicholas,  the  Long- 
fellows  lie  most  immoderately.  The  worthy  burghers 
of  Albany  never  deceived  a  Christian  in  their  lives.  As 
their  old  proverb  says  : 

*  'Twould  make  an  honest  Dutchman  laugh, 
To  say  a  sturgeon  is  a  calf.' 

"  The  indians  according  to  the  learned  Knickerbock 
er,  perceiving  that  the  new  comers,  were  like  them 
selves  great  smokers,  took  a  vast  liking  to  them,  and 
sat  down  and  smoked  with  them,  without  saying  a  word, 
and  presently  a  cloud  of  smoke  overspread  the  land, 
like  the  haze  of  the  indian  summer.  An  old  chief  at 
length  looked  at  Mynheer  Van  Wezel,  the  leader  of  the 
party,  and  gave  a  significant  grunt.  Mynheer  Van  We 
zel  looked  at  the  old  indian  and  gave  another  grunt  equal 
ly  significant.  Thus  they  came  to  a  mutual  good  under 
standing,  and  a  treaty  was  concluded  without  exchanging 
a  single  word,  or  any  other  ceremony  than  a  good  so 
ciable  smoking  party.  Some  of  the  descendants  of 
Philo  Longfellow,  insinuate  that  Mynheer  Van  Wezel 
took  an  opportunity  of  presenting  his  pistol,  well  charged 
with  Schiedam,  to  the  old  chief  and  his  followers,  and  that  it 
operated  marvellously  in  bringing  about  the  treaty.  But 
there  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in  the  story.  This  good 
understanding  was  produced  by  the  magic  virtues  of  si 
lence  and  tobacco.  This  example  shows  how  easy  it 
is  to  be  good  friends,  if  people  will  only  hold  their 


167 

tongues  ;  and  it  moreover  forever  rescues  the  excellent 
practice  of  smoking  from  the  dull  jests  of  effeminate 
puppies,  who  affect  to  call  it  vulgar.  If  modern 
negotiators  would  only  sit  down  and  smoke  a  sociable 
pipe  together  every  day  for  five  or  six  months,  my  life 
upon  it  there  would  be  less  ink  shed,  and  blood  shed  too 
in  this  world.  By  St.  Nicholas  !  the  saint  of  smokers, 
there  is  nothing  comparable  to  the  pipe,  for  soothing 
anger,  softening  down  irritation,  solacing  disappoint 
ment,  and  disposing  the  mind  to  balmy  contemplation, 
poetical  flights?  and  lofty  soarings  of  the  fancy  ;  inso 
much  that  any  young  bard,  who  will  tie  his  shirt  with  a 
black  ribbon  and  take  to  smoking  and  drinking  gin  and 
water  like  my  Lord  Byron,  will  in  a  short  time  write 
equal  to  his  lordship,  allowing  for  accidents." 

"  Thus,"  continues  the  alderman,  "  was  the  city  of 
Albany  founded,  and  originally  called  Jill-bonny,  as  the 
Dutch  people  still  pronounce  it,  from  the  bonny  river, 
the  bonny  woods,  bonny  pastures,  and  bonny  land 
scapes  by  which  it  was  environed.  But  blessed  St. 
Nicholas  !  how  is  it  sophisticated,  since,  by  the  poste 
rity  of  Philo  Longfellow,  by  politicians,  tourists,  lobby 
members,  widening  streets,  building  basins,  and  dig 
ging  canals  !  The  old  Dutch  church,  where  the  follow 
ers  of  Mynheer  Van  Wezel,  first  offered  up  their  sim 
ple  orisons,  is  pulled  down,  and  in  its  room  a  non-descript 
with  two  tin  steeples  erected,  wherein  they  preach  nothing 
but  English.  The  young  men  who  descend  from  the 
founders,  are  Dutchmen  no  more,  and  the  damsels  are 
nought.  Not  one  in  a  hundred  can  read  a  Dutch  Bible ! 
In  a  little  while  the  children  of  that  roving  Ishmaelite* 


• 


168 

Philo  Longfellow,  will  sweep  them  from  their  inheri 
tance,  and  the  land  shall  know  them  no  more.  The 
very  houses  have  changed  their  position,  and  it  is  writ 
ten,  that  an  old  mansion  of  Dutch  brick  which  whilom 
projected  its  end  in  front,  on  Pearl  Street,  did  one  night 
incontinently  turn  its  broadside  to  the  street,  as  if  resol 
ved  like  its  master  to  be  in  the  fashion,  and  follow  the 
march  of  public  improvement."  As  the  prize  poet  sings 
— corroborating  the  sentiments  of  the  worthy  alder 
man — 

"  All  things  do  change  in  this  queer  world  ; 

Which  world  is  topsy-turvy  hurl'd  ! 

Tadpoles  to  skipping  bull  frogs  turn, 

And  whales  in  lighted  candles  burn  ; 

The  worm  of  yesterday,  to  day 

A  butterfly  is,  rich  and  gay ; 

The  city  belles  all  turn  religious, 

And  say  their  prayers  in  hats  prodigious  : 

St.  Tammany  becomes  Clintonian, 

And  Adams-men  downright  Jacksonian. 

Thus  all  our  tastes  are  wild  and  fleeting, 

And  most  of  all  our  taste  in  eating ; 

I  knew  a  man — or  rather  savage, 

Who  went  from  ducks*  to  beef  and  cabbage !" 

As  Albany  is  a  sort  of  depot,  where  the  commodities 
of  the  fashionable  world  are  warehoused  as  it  were  a 
night  or  two,  for  exportation  to  Saratoga,  Niagara, 
Montreal,  Quebec,  and  Boston,  we  shall  here  present 
to  our  readers  a  short  system  of  rules  and  regulations, 
for  detecting  good  inns,  and  generally  for  travelling  with 

'*  Querf . — Canvass  backs? — if  so,  there  is  no  hope  for  him. 


169 

dignity  and  refinement*     And  first,  as  to  smelling  out 
a,  comfortable  inn. 

Never  go  where  the  stage  drivers  or  steam  boat  men 
advise  you. 

Never  go  to  a  newly  painted  house.  Trap  for  the 
green  horns.  A  butcher's  cart,  with  a  good  fat  butcher, 
handing  out  turkeys,  venison,  ducks,  marbled  beef, 
celery,  and  cauliflowers,  is  the  best  sign  for  a  public 
house. 

Never  go  to  a  hotel,  that  has  a  fine  gilt  framed  pic 
ture  of  itself  hung  up  in  the  steam  boat.  Good  wine 
needs  no  bush — a  good  hotel  speaks  for  itself,  and  will 
be  found  out  without  a  picture. 

Always  yield  implicit  obedience  to  a  puff  in  the  news 
papers  in  praise  of  any  hotel.  It  is  a  proof  that  the 
landlord  has  been  over  civil  to  one  guest  at  the  expense 
of  all  the  others.  No  man  is  ever  particularly  pleased 
any  where,  or  with  any  body,  unless  he  has  received 
more  attention  than  he  deserves.  Perhaps  you  may  be 
equally  favoured,  particularly  if  you  hint  that  you  mean 
to  publish  your  travels.  Even  publicans  sigh  for  im 
mortality. 

Never  seem  anxious  to  get  lodgings  at  any  particu 
lar  place.  The  landlord  will  put  you  in  the  garret  if 
you  do,  unless  you  come  in  your  own  carriage. 

If  you  have  no  servant  of  your  own,  always  hire  one 
of  the  smartest  dressed  fellows  of  the  steam  boat  to  ear 
ly  your  baggage,  and  pass  him  off  if  possible  till  you  are 
snugly  housed  at  the  hotel,  as  your  own.  Your  accom 
modations  will  be  the  better  for  it ;  and  when  the  rm's- 
15 

*/* 


170 

take  is  discovered,  they  cant  turn  yoii  out  of  your  room 
you  know. 

Grumble  at  your  accommodations  every  morning,  it 
will  make  you  appear  of  consequence,  and  if  there  are 
-  better  in  the  house,  in  time  you  will  get  them. 

Take  the  first  opportunity  to  insinuate  to  the  waiters, 
one  at  a  time,  that  if  they  remember  you,  you  will  re 
member  them  when  you  go  away.  You  will  have  every 
soul  of  them  at  your  command.  N.  B.  You  need  not 
keep  your  promise. 

Respecting  the  best  public  houses  in  Albany,  there 
are  conflicting  opinions.  Some  think  Rockwell's, 
some  Cruttenden's  the  best.  We  dont  know  much  of 
Rockwell,  but  Cruttenden,  thrice  jolly  Cruttenden,  we 
pronounce  worthy  to  be  landlord  to  the  whole  universe. 
Fate  intended  him  to  keep  open  house,  and  if  she  had 
only  furnished  him  with  money  enough,  he  would  have 
done  it  at  his  own  expense,  instead  of  that  of  other 
people.  He  is  the  Falstaff  of  hosts,  for  he  not  only 
drinks  himself,  but  causes  others  to  drink,  by  virtue  of 
his  excellent  wines,  excellent  jokes,  and  excellent  ex 
ample.  However,  as  we  profess  the  most  rigorous  im 
partiality,  we  give  no  opinion  whatever  on  the  relative 
merits  of  the  two  houses,  having — for  which  we  hope  to 
be"  forgiven — more  than  once  got  royally  fuddled  at 
both.  If,  however,  the  traveller  is  particular,  as  he 
ought  to  be  in  these  matters,  he  has  only  to  inquire 
where  a  certain  worthy  member  from  New  York  puts 
up  during  the  session.  He  will  be  morally  certain  of 
finding  good  fare  and  good  lodgings  there. 


171 

Lastly,  never  go  away  from  a  place  without  paying 
your  bill,  unless  you  have  nothing  to  pay  it  with.  Ne- 
cessitas  non  habet,  &c. — A  man  must  travel  now  a 
days,  or  he  is  absolutely  nobody  ;  and  if  he  has  no 
money,  it  must  be  at  the  expense  of  other  people.  In 
case  you  set  out  on  a.  foray  of  this  kind,  it  is  advisable 
to  have  two  trunks,  one  a  small  one  for  your  own 
E  clothes,  and  those  of  other  people,  the  other  a  strong, 
well  braced,  well  rivetted,  large  sized  one,  filled  with 
brickbats.  Be  sure  to  talk  "  big"  about  having  married 
a  rich  wife  as  ugly  as  sin,  for  the  sake  of  her  money  ; 
about  your  great  relations  ;  and  if  your  modesty  wont 
permit  you  to  pass  for  a  lord,  dont  abate  a  hair's  breadth 
of  being  second  cousin  to  one.  When  the  landlord  be 
comes  troublesome,  or  inattentive,  and  begins  to  throw 
out  hints  about  the  colour  of  a  man's  money,  hire  a  gig, 
.take  your  little  trunk,  give  out  you  are  going  to  visit 
some  well  known  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood,  for 
a  day  or  two,  and  teave  the  great  trunk  behind  for  the 
benefit  of  mine  host.  It  is  not  expected  you  will  send 
back  the  gig. 

"  Albany," — we  again  quote  from  the  ana  of  Alder 
man  Janson,  the  prince  of  city  magistrates — "  Albany 
is  the  capital  of  the  state  of  New  York,  having  been  the 
seat  of  government  for  almost  half  a  century.  Formerly 
the  legislature  met  in  New  York ;  but  in  process  of 
time  it  was  found  that  the  members,  being  seduced  into 
huge  feeding,  by  the  attractions  of  oysters,  turtle,  and 
calves  head  soup,  Hid  incontinently  fall  asleep  at  their 
afternoon  session,  and  enact  divers  mischievous  laws, 


172 

to  the  great  detriment  of  the  community.  Thereupon 
they  resolved  to  remove  to  Albany ;  but  alas !  luxury 
and  dissipation  followed  in  their  train,  so  that  in  process 
of  time  they  fell  asleep  oftener  than  ever,  and  passed 
other  laws,  which  nothing  but  their  being  fast  asleep 
could  excuse.  In  my  opinion,  it  would  tend  greatly  to 
the  happiness  of  the  community,  and  go  far  to  prevent 
this  practice  of  legislating  with  the  eyes  shut,  if-  these** 
bodies  were  to  meet  in  council  like  the  indians,  under 
the  trees  in  the  open  air,  and  be  obliged  to  legislate 
standing.  This  would  prevent  one  man  from  talking 
all  the  rest  to  sleep,  unless  they  slept  like  geese  stand 
ing  on  one  leg,  and  thereby  arrest  the  passage  of  many 
mischievous  laws  for  mending  rivers,  mending  manners, 
mending  charters,  mending  codes,  making  roads,  ma 
king  beasts  of  burden  of  the  people  and  fools  of  them 
selves.  Truly  saith  the  wise  man,  *  Too  much  of  a 
good  thing  is  good  for  nothing ;'  and  too  much  legisla 
tion  is  a  species  of  sly,  insidious  oppression,  the  more 
mischievous  as  coming  in  the  disguise  of  powers  exer 
cised  by  the  servants,  instead  of  the  masters  of  the 
people.  Commend  me  to  King  Log,  rather  than  King 
Stork.  Every  legislative  body  in  my  opinion,  should 
have  a  majority  of  good  honest,  sleepy,  patriotic  mem 
bers,  whose  pleasure  it  is  to  do  nothing  a  good  portion 
of  the  time  during  the  session.  Your  active  men  are 
highly  mischievous  in  a  government ;  they  must  always 
be  doing  something ;  meddling  with  every  one's  con 
cerns,  and  so  busy  in  keeping  the  wheels  of  government, 
going,  that  they  dont  care  how  many  people  they  run 
over.  They  are  millstones  in  motion,  and  when  they 


p 


173 

have  no  grist  to  grind,  will  set  one  another  on  fire.  In 
my  opinion  the  most  useful  member  that  ever  sat  in  con 
gress,  was  one  who  never  in  his  life  made  any  motion 
except  for  an  adjournment,  which  he  repeated  every  day 
just  before  dinner  time.  Truly  the  energy  and  activity 
of  a  blockhead  is  awful."' 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  (so  says  the  fable,  according 
to  Alderman  Janson,)   "  the  empire  of  the  geese  was 
under  the  government  of  an  old  king   Gander,   who 
though  he  exercised  an  absolute   sway,  was  so  idle, 
pampered,  and  phlegmatic,  that  he  slept  three  fourths  of 
his  time,  during  which  the  subject  geese  did  pretty  much 
as  they  pleased.     But  for  all  this  he  was  a  prodigious 
tyrant,  who  consumed  more  corn  than  half  of  his  sub 
jects,  and  morever  obliged  them  to  duck  their  heads 
to  him  whenever  they  passed.     But  the  chief  complaint 
against  him  was,  that  though  he  could  do  just  as  he 
pleased,  it  was  his  pleasure  to  sit  still  and  do  nothing. 
u  Whereupon  it  came  to  pass  one  day,  his  subjects 
held  a  town  meeting,  or  it  might  be  a  convention,  and 
j   dethroned  him,  placing  the  government  in  the  hands  of 
|   the  wise  geese.     Feeling  themselves  called  upon  to 
j  justify  the  choice  of  the  nation,  by  bettering  its  condition. 
!  the  wise  geese  set  to  work,  and  passed  so  many  excellent 
i   laws,  that  in  a  little  time  the  wisest  goose  of  the  com- 
i  munity  could  hardly  tell  whether  it  was  lawful  to  say  boo 
to  a  goose,  or  hiss  at  a  puppy  dog,  or  kick  up  a  dust  in 
a  mill  pond  of  a  warm  summer  morning.  When  the  time 
of  these  wise  geese  expired,  other  geese  still  wiser  were 
chosen  to  govern  in  their  stead,  for  such  was  the  prodi 
gious  march  of  mind  among  them,  that  there  was  not  a 
15* 


if* 


174 

goose  in  the  whole  empire,  but  believed  himself  ten 
times  wiser  than  his  father  before  him.  Each  succeed 
ing  council  of  wise  geese  of  course  thought  it  incumbent 
upon  it,  to  give  a  push  to  the  march  of  mind,  until  at 
length  the  mind  marched  so  fast  that  it  was  in  great 
danger  of  falling  on  its  nose,  and  continually  ran  against 
posts,  or  fell  into  ditches. 

"  Thus  each  generation  of  wise  geese  went  on  ma 
king  excellent  laws  to  assist  the  march  of  mind  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvement,  until  in  process  of 
time,  there  were  no- more  good  laws  to  pass,  and  it  be 
came  necessary  to  pass  bad  ones  to  keep  their  hands  in, 
and  themselves  in  their  places.  '  Gentlemen,'  said  a 
little,  busy,  bustling,  active,  managing,  talkative  young 
goose,  who  was  resolved  nobody  should  insinuate  that 
he  could  not  say  boo  to  a  goose — *  gentlemen,  it  does 
not  signify,  we  must  do  something  for  the  march  of 
mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improvement,  or  the 
citizen  geese  will  call  us  all  to  nought,  and  choose  other 
wise  geese  in  our  stead.  They  are  already  the  happiest 
geese  in  the  world ;  we  must  make  them  a  little  too 
happy,  or  they  will  never  be  satisfied.'  Hereupon  each 
of  the  wise  geese  burned  to  do  something  to  assist  the 
inarch  of  the  mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improve 
ment.  One  proposed  a  law  to  forbid  geese  to  stand 
upon  one  leg  at  night,  and  muzzle  their  bills  in  their 
own  feathers,  this  being  a  dangerous  practice  inasmuch 
as  it  exposed  them  to  be  surprised  the  more  easily  by 
foxes.  Another  offered  a  resolution  to  oblige  all  the  geese 
to  lay  their  eggs  the  other  end  foremost,  and  hatch  them 
in  half  the  usual  period,  whereby  much  time  would  be 


175  * 

Saved,  and  there  would  be  a  mighty  increase  of  popula 
tion.  This  last  motion  was  made  by  an  old  bachelor 
goose,  who  had  made  the  subject  of  population  his  chief 
study.  A  third,  proposed  a  law  forbidding  the  young 
goslings  to  paddle  in  the  water  till  they  were  old  enough 
to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  great  bull  frogs  and  snap 
ping  turtles.  A  fourth,  moved  to  pick  one  half  the  geese 
of  one  half  their  feathers,  and  give  them  to  the  other 
half  of  the  geese,  for  the  encouragement  of  domestic 
industry,  and  the  national  independence.  After  these 
laws  had  been  debated  about  six  months,  they  were 
passed  without  opposition,  it  being  discovered  to  the 
great  surprise  of  the  house,  that  there  was  no  difference 
of  opinion  on  the  subject. 

"  Had  these  edicts  been  propounded  by  old  king  Gan 
der,  there  would  have  been  the  d 1  to  pay  among  the 

geese,  and  such  a  hissing  as  was  never  heard  before. 
But  there  is  a  vast  difference  between  being  governed  by 
a  master  and  a  slave.  We  see  the  proudest  monarchs, 
and  the  most  self-willed  tyrants,  submitting  to  the  will 
of  a  valet,  or  a  gentleman  usher,  or  any  other  abject 
slave,  when  they  would  resist  the  will  of  their  subjects 
on  all  occasions.  So  with  the  people,  and  so  it  was 
with  the  republic  of  the  geese ;  they  allowed  themselves 
to  be  cajoled  on  all  occasions,  and  laughed  at  the  idea 
of  the  possibility  of  having  their  chains  rivetted  by  their 
own  servants.  So  the  married  geese  set  to  work  to  lay 
their  eggs  according  to  law.  But  nature  is  an  obsti 
nate  devil,  and  there  is  no  legislating  her  into  reason. 
The  eggs  and  the  goslings  came  into  the  world  just  as 
they  did  before.  The  little  goslings,  contrary  to  law, 


176 

would  be  dabbling  in  the  water,  and  getting  now  and 
then  caught  by  the  snapping  turtles,  and  there  was  no 
such  thing  as  punishing  the  little  rogues  after  they  were 
dead.  In  short,  of  all  these  laws,  there  was  but  one 
which  actually  went  into  operation,  namely,  that  for 
picking  one  half  of  the  geese  for  the  benefit  of  the 
other  half. 

"  But  it  was  never  yet  known  that  either  men  or 
geese,  were  content  with  half  a  loaf  when  they  could 
get  the  whole.  The  half  of  the  republic  of  the  geese, 
for  whose  benefit  the  other  half  had  been  picked,  in  pro 
cess  of  time  waxed  fat,  and  strong,  and  wealthy,  while 
the  other  half  that  had  been  fleeced  of  a  good  half  of 
their  feathers  for  the  encouragement  of  domestic  indus 
try  waxed  proportionably  poor  and  meagre,  and  their 
breast  bones  projected  awfully,  like  unto  cut-waters. 
The  fat  geese,  now  began  to  grumble  that  there  was  a 
great  want  of  patriotism  in  the  rules  of  the  geesian 
republic  in  not  properly  encouraging  domestic  industry, 
since  nothing  was  clearer,  than  that  if  half  a  loaf  was 
good,  the  whole  loaf  was  better.  So  they  petitioned — 
and  the  petition  of  the  strong  is  a  demand — they  petition 
ed  that  the  geese  who  had  lost  half  their  feathers  for  the 
public  good,  should  be  called  upon  to  yield  the  other  half 
like  honest  patriotic  fellows.  The  law  was  passed  accor 
dingly.  But  public  discontent  is  like  a  great  bell,  it 
takes  a  long  time  in  raising,  but  makes  a  mighty  noise 
when  once  up.  The  geese  which  had  been  picked  for 
the  good  of  the  republic,  had  chewed  the  cud  of  their 
poverty  in  silence,  but  they  spit  venom  in  private  among; 
themselves ;  and  this  new  law  to  pluck  them  quite  na- 


177 

Jted,  brought  affairs  to  a  crisis.  In  matters  of  legisla 
tion,  wealth  and  influence  are  every  thing.  But  where 
it  comes  to  club  laiv,  or  a  resort  to  the  right  of  the 
strongest,  poverty  always  carries  the  day.  The  poor 
plucked  geese  accordingly  took  back  by  force  what  they 
had  been  deprived  of  by  legislation,  with  interest ;  and 
finding  after  a  little  while  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
head  of  some  kind  or  other,  unanimously  recalled  old  king 
Gander  to  come  and  sleep  over  them  again.  He  reign 
ed  long  and  happily — poised  himself  so  nicely,  by  doing 
nothing,  and  keeping  perfectly  still,  that  he  sat  upright 
while  the  wheel  of  fortune  turned  round  under  him,  and 
the  occasional  rocking  of  his  kingdom  only  made  him 
sleep  the  sounder." 

MORAL. 

"  Leave  the  people  to  manage  their  private  affairs  in 
their  own  way  as  much  as  possible,  without  the  interfe 
rence  of  their  rulers.  The  worst  species  of  tyranny  is 
that  of  laws,  making  sudden  and  perpetual  changes  in 
the  value  of  property  and  the  wages  of  labour,  thus 
placing  every  man's  prosperity  at  the  mercy  of  others." 

According  to  Alderman  Janson,  *  *  Albany  has  the  merit 
or  the  reputation  of  having  first  called  into  activity,  if  not 
into  existence,  a  race  of  men  the  most  useful  of  any  per 
haps  invented  since  the  days  of  Prometheus,  who  make  it 
their  sole  business  to  enlighten  the  legislature,  most  es~ 
pecially  on  subjects  of  finance,  banking,  &c.  They 
are  called  by  way  of  honourable  distinction  LOBBY  MEM- 
BEES,  because  they  form  a  sort  of  third  estate,  or  legis- 


178 

lative  chamber  in  the  lobby.  They  are  wonderful  adepts; 
at  log  rolling,  and  of  such  extraordinary  powers  of  per 
suasion,  that  one  of  them  has  been  known  to  lay  a 
wager  that  he  would  persuade  a  member  of  the  inner 
house  to  reconsider  his  vote,  in  a  private  conference  of 
half  an  hour.  Such  is  the  wonderful  disinterestedness 
of  these  patriots  that  they  never  call  upon  the  people  to 
pay  them  three  dollars  a  day,  as  the  other  members  do, 
but  not  only  bear  their  own  expenses,  but  give  great  en 
tertainments,  and  sometimes,  it  is  affirmed,  help  a  brother 
membe  of  the  inne:r  house  along  with  a  loan,  a  sub 
scription,  and  even  a  free  gift—out  of  pure  good  na 
ture  and  charity. 

"Their  ingenuity  is  exercised  for  the  benefit  of 
the  good  people  of  the  state,  in  devising  all  sorts  of 
projects,  for  making  roads,  digging  canals,  and  sawing 
wood  ;  all  which  they  will  execute  for  nothing,  provided 
the  legislature  will  let  them  make  their  own  money  out 
of  rags,  and  what  is  still  better,  *  Loan  them  the  credit 
of  the  state,'  for  half  a  million  or  so.  It  is  astonishing 
what  benefits  these  lobby  members  have  conferred  on 
this  great  state,  filling  it  with  companies,  for  furnishing 
the  people  with  every  convenience,  from  bad  money,  that 
wont  pass,  to  coal  that  wont  burn — whereby  people  in 
stead  of  wasting  their  resources  in  necessaries,  may  spend 
them  in  superfluities.  Moreover  they  have  conferred 
great  honour  upon  the  state  abroad,  it  being  a  common 
saying,  that  whoever  wants  Viis  *  log  rolled,'  or  his  pro 
ject  for  the  benefit  of  the  community  adopted  by  a  le 
gislature,  must  send  to  Albany  for  a  gang  of  lobby 


179 

members.  I  thought  I  could  do  no  less  than  say  what 
I  have  said,  in  behalf  of  these  calumniated  people, 
whom  I  intend  to  employ  next  winter,  in  getting  an  in 
corporation  to  clear  Broadway  of  free  gentlemen  of 
colour,  ladies'  fashionable  bonnets,  and  those  *  infernal 
machines,'  that  whiz  about,  spirting  water,  and  engen 
dering  mud  from  one  end  of  the  street  to  the  other, 
thereby  making  it  unnavigable  for  sober  decent  peo 
ple." 

"In  former  times,"  continues  the  alderman,  "Al 
bany  was  a  cheap  place,  where  an  honest  man  could 
live  on  a  small  income,  and  bring  up  a  large  family  re 
putably,  without  running  in  debt,  or  getting  a  note  dis 
counted.  But  domestic  industry,  and  the  march  of  pub 
lic  improvement,  have  changed  the  face  of  things,  and 
altered  the  nature  of  man  as  well  as  woman.  The  fa 
ther  must  live  in  style,  whether  he  can  afford  it  or  not 
— the  daughters  must  dress  in  the  extremity  of  bad 
fashions,  learn  to  dance,  to  paint,  and  to  torture  the 
piano — and  the  sons  disdain  the  ignominious  idea  of 
being  useful.  The  race  of  fine  ladies  and  fine  gentle 
men — fine  feathers  make  fine  birds — has  multiplied  an 
hundred  fold,  and  we  are  credibly  informed  that  the  for 
mer  have  entered  into  a  solemn  league  and  covenant, 
not  to  marry  any  man  who  cannot  afford  to  live  in  a  three 
story  house,  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel 
pieces.  The  ancient  Dutch  economy,  and  the  simple 
habits  of  Dutchmen,  have  given  place  to  speculation 
and  folly ;  and  the  possession  of  a  moderate  indepen 
dence  sacrificed  to  the  idle  anticipation  of  unbounded 
wealth.  The  race  of  three  cornered  cocked  hats  is  al- 


180 

most  extinct — the  reverend  old  fashioned  garments  sd 
becoming  to  age,  are  replaced  by  dandy  coats — the 
good  housewives  no  longer  toil  or  spin — and  yet  I  say 
unto  thee,  gentle  reader,  that  Solomon  in  all  his  glory 
was  not  attired  like  one  of  these — tavern  keepers  charge 
double — hack  drivers  treble — milliners  quadruple — tai 
lors  have  put  off  the  modesty  of  their  natures — and  the 
old  market  women  extortionate  in  cabbages  and  turnips- 
Nay,  I  have  it  from  the  best  authority,  that  an  old  bur 
gher  of  the  ancient  regime,  was  not  long  since  ousted, 
by  the  force  of  conjugal  eloquence,  out  of  a  patriarchal 
coat,  which  he  had  worn  with  honour  and  reputation  up 
wards  of  forty  years,  and  instigated  by  the  d 1,  to 

put  on  a  fashionable  frock  in  its  place." 

We  also  learn  from  the  manuscripts  -of  Alderman 
Janson,  of  blessed  memory,  that  "  In  the  year  1783, 
one  Baltus  Blydenburgh,  on  being  called  upon,  the" 
26th  of  August,  by  Teunis  Van  Valer,  for  money 
which  he  owed  him,  declined  paying  it,  on  the  ground 
that  it  was  not  in  his  power.  At  first  Teunis  thought 
he  was  joking,  but  on  being  solemnly  assured  to  the 
contrary,  he  threw  up  his  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven, 
and  cried  out  in  Dutch,  "  Well,  den  the  world  is  cer 
tainly  coming  to  an  end!"  and  departed  into  the  streets, 
where  he  told  every  body  he  met,  that  Baltus  Blyden* 
burgh  could  not  pay  his  debts,  and  that  the  city  was 
going  to  be  swallowed  up  like  Sodom  and  Gomorrah. 
The  story  spread,  and  the  panic  with  it,  inasmuch  that 
the  good  careful  old  wives  packed  up  all  their  petticoats 
and  looking  glasses,  and  were  preparing  to  depart  to 
the  other  side  of  the  river.  Such  a  tbing  as  a  ma»  not 


181 

paying  his  debts,  had  never  before  been  known  in  Ai 
bany,  and  beyond  doubt  the  city  would  have  been  en 
tirely  deserted,  had  it  not  been  for  the  arrival  of  a  grand 
son  of  Philo  Longfellow,  from  New  York,  who  assured 
them  there  was  no  danger  of  an  earthquake,  for  to  his 
certain  knowledge,  if  running  in  debt  for  more  than 
people  were  able  to  pay,  would  produce  earthquakes, 
there  would  not  be  a  city  in  the  United  States  left 
standing.  Whereupon,"  continues  Alderman  Janson, 
"  the  citizens  were  mightily  comforted,  and  went  to 
work  getting  in  debt  as  fast  as  possible."  He  adds, 
that  up  to  the  year  1783,  there  was  not  a  schoolmaster  in 
Albany  that  could  tell  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  bank 
rupt,"  and  concludes  with  the  following  affecting  apos 
trophe  :  "  Alas  !  for  honest  old  Albany !  All  this  comes 
of  *  domestic  industry,'  *  the  march  of  public  improve 
ment,'  and  the  innovations  of  the  posterity  of  Philo 
Longfellow !" 

The  grand  canal  ends  at  Albany,  where  there  is  a 
capacious  basin  for  canal  boats.  "  The  canal  and 
locks,"  quoth  the  worthy  alderman,  "  cost  upwards  of 
eight  millions  of  dollars,  the  locks  especially,  having 
been  very  expensive,  whence  the  favourite  song  of  the 
people  of  New  York  state,  is  : 

"  'I  LOCK'D  up  all  my  treasure.'  " 

At  Albany,  wise  travellers  going  to  the  springs,  or  to 
Niagara,  generally  quit  the  water,  and  take  to  land  car 
riage  ;  since  no  man,  who  is  either  in  a  hurry,  as  all 
people  who  have  nothing  to  do  are,  or  who  thinks  it  of 
16 


any  importance  to  wear  a  head  on  his  shoulders,  would 
venture  on  the  canal.  Festina  lente  is  the  maxim  of 
the  canal  boats  ;  they  appear  always  in  a  hurry,  and  yet 
go  at  a  snail's  pace.  Four  or  five  miles  an  hour  would 
do  very  well  when  people  were  not  so  busy  about  no 
thing  as  they  are  now,  but  body  o  me  !  fifteen  miles  an 
hour  is  indispensable  to  the  new  regime.  By  this  saving 
of  time,  a  traveller  may  be  safely  said  to. live  twice  as 
long  as  he  could  do  before  the  march  of  mind  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvement.  The  following  are 
among  the  principal  rules  adopted  by  very  experienced 
travellers  on  leaving  Albany  by  land. 

Whenever  you  come  to  two  turnpike  roads,  branching 
off  in  different  directions,  you  may  be  pretty  certain  they 
both  head  to  the  same  place,  it  being  a  maxim  with  the 
friends  of  public  improvement,  that  as  two  heads  are 
better  than  one,  though  one  of  them  is  a  calves-head, 
so  are  two  roads,  even  though  both  are  as  bad  as  possi 
ble.  In  this  country  there  are  always  at  least  two  near 
est  ways  to  a  place  of  any  consequence. 

Never  inquire  your  way  of  persons  along  the  roadj 
but  steer  by  the  map,  and  then  if  you  go  wrong,  it  will 
be  with  a  clear  conscience. 

Never  ask  the  distance  to  any  place  "  of  one  of  the 
posterity  of  Philo  Longfellow,"  as  Alderman  Janson 
calls  them,  for  he  will  be  sure  to  ask  you  "  If  you  are 
going  there,"  before  he  answers  your  question  ;  nor  of 
the  descendants  of  the  Van  Wezels,  for  ten  to  one,  the 
first  will  tell  you  it  is  ten  miles,  and  when  you  have 
gone  half  a  dozen  of  them,  the  next  will  apprize  you. 


after  scratching  his  head  in  the  manner  of  Scipio,  thai 
it  is  nigh  about  twenty.  You  will  never  get  to  the  end 
of  your  journey,  if  you  believe  these  fellows. 

Never  stop  at  the  tavern  recommended  by  the  tavern 
keeper  at  whose  house  you  stopt  last.  They  make  a 
point  of  honour  of  not  speaking  ill  of  each  other,  a 
practice  which  we  would  particularly  recommend  to  the 
liberal  professions. 

When  you  enter  a  tavern,  begin  by  acting  the  great 
man — ask  for  a  private  room — call  the  landlord,  his 
wife,  and  all  his  household  as  loud  as  you  can — set 
them  all  going,  if  possible,  and  find  fault  not  only  with 
every  thing  you  see,  but  every  thing  they  do.  Ex 
amine  the  beds,  and  be  particular  in  looking  under  them, 
to  see  if  there  is  no  robber  concealed  there.  If  there 
is  any  distinguished  person  living  in  the  neighbourhood? 
inquire  about  him  particularly,  and  regret  you  have  not 
time  to  stay  a  day  or  two  with  him.  If  you  happen  to 
be  travelling  in  a  hack  carriage,  make  the  driver  take 
off  his  number  and  put  up  a  coat  of  arms.  Be  sure  to 
Jet  the  driver  know  that  you  will  send  him  about  his  bu 
siness,  if  he  whispers  a  word  of  the  matter,  and  be  so 
particular  in  looking  to  the  horses,  and  inquiring  if  they 
have  been  taken  care  of,  that  every  body  will  take  it  for 
granted,  they  belong  to  you.  As  a  good  portion  of  the 
pleasure  of  travelling  consists  in  passing  for  a  person  of 
consequence,  these  directions  will  be  found  of  particu 
lar  value  in  bringing  about  this  desirable  result. 

When  people  stop  by  the  side  of  the  road  to  stare  at 
your  equipage,  be  sure  to  loll  carelessly  back,  and  take 
not  the  least  notice  of  them.  They  will  think  you  a 


184 

great  man  certainly;  whereas  if  you  look  at  them 
complacently,  they  will  only  set  you  down  as  a  gentle 
man. 

Be  careful  when  you  go  away,  not  to  express  the 
least  satisfaction  to  landlord  or  landlady  at  your  enter 
tainment,  but  let  them  see  that  you  consider  yourself 
ill  treated.  They  will  take  it  for  granted  you  have  been 
used  to  better  at  home. 

If  you  travel  in  a  stage  coach;  look  as  dignified  as 
possible,  and  if  any  body  asks  you  a  civil  question, 
give  them  an  uncivil  look  in  return,  as  is  the  fashion 
with  the  English  quality  cockneys,  unless  the  person 
looks  as  if  he  might  tweak  your  nose,  for  assuming  airs 
of  dignified  importance. 

Always,  if  possible,  set  out  in  a  stage  with  a  drunken 
driver,  because  there  is  some  reason  to  calculate  he 
will  be  sober  in  time.  Whereas  if  ho  sets  out  sober, 
it  is  pretty  certain  he  will  be  drunk  all  the  rest  of  the 
journey. 

If  you  meet  with  a  stranger  who  seems  inclined  to  be 
civil  extempore,  take  it  for  granted  he  means  to  pick 
your  pocket  or  diddle  you  in  some  way  or  other.  Ci 
vility  is  too  valuable  an  article  to  be  given'away  for  no 
thing. 

If  you  travel  in  a  handsome  equipage*,  no  matter 
whether  your  own  or  not,  be  careful  not  to  enter  a 
town  after  dark,  or  leave  it  before  the  people  are  up, 
else  one  half  of  them  wont  have  an  opportunity  of  see 
ing  you. 

Always  plump  into  the  back  seat  of  a  stage  coach  with 
out  ceremony,  whether  there  are  females  or  not.  If  an%y 


185 

wan  happens  to  claim  it,  you  can  only  get  out  again  you 
know,  and  look  dignified. 

Always  be  in  a  bad  humour  when  you  are  travelling. 
Nothing  is  so  vulgar  as  perpetual  cheerfulness.  It 
proves  a  person  devoid  of  well  bred  sensibility. 

Touching  the  payment  of  bills,  our  friend  Stephen 
Griffin,  Esq.  assures  us,  that  on  the  continent  of  Eu 
rope,  none  but  an  English  cockney  traveller,  with  more 
money  than  wit,  ever  thinks  of  paying  a  bill  without 
deducting  one  half.  Here  however,  in  this  honest 
country,  it  would  be  unreasonable  in  the  traveller  to  de 
duct  more  than  one  third,  that  being  the  usual  excess 
along  the  roads,  and  at  public  places  much  frequented 
by  people  having  a  vocation  to  travelling  for  pleasure. 
If  however  you  wish  to  pass  for  a  great  man,  pay  the 
bill  without  looking  at  it.  We  were  acquainted  with  a 
great  broker,  who  always  pursued  this  plan,  and  the  con 
sequence  was,  that  hostlers,  waiters,  chambermaids, 
and  landlords,  one  and  all,  looked  upon  him  as  the 
greatest  man  in  America,  and  nobody  could  be  waited 
upon,  or  accommodated  at  the  inns,  until  he  was  pro 
perly  disposed  of.  There  is  however  a  meritorious 
class  of  travellers,  whose  business  is  to  get  away  from 
hotels  and  public  houses  without  paying  at  all;  who 
drink  their  bottle  ofBingham,Marston,  or  Billy  Ludlow, 
every  day,  scot  free.  This  requires  considerable  ori 
ginal  genius,  much  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  great 
power  of  face,  with  a  capacity  of  changing  names. 
Your  alias  is  a  staunch  friend  to  worthies  of  this  class. 
The  best  school  for  this  species  of  knowledge  is  the 
16* 


186 

quarter  sessions,  or  the  police,  where  a  regular  attend 
ance  of  about  a  twelvemonth,  will  hardly  fail  of  initiating 
the  scholar  into  all  the  mysteries  of  the  great  art  of  run 
ning  in  debt,  an  art  than  which  there  is  not  one  more 
vitally  important  to  the  rising  generation. 

Before  we  leave  Albany,  we  would  caution  the  travel 
ler  against  anticipating  any  thing  extraordinary  in  the 
way  of  eating  at  this  place.  In  vain  may  he  sigh  for 
canvass  backs,  or  terrapins.  A  turtle  sometimes  finds 
its  way  there,  and  now  and  then  a  cargo  of  oysters  ; 
but  in  general  there  is  little  or  nothing  to  detain  the  en 
lightened,  travelled  gourmand.  The  fare  will  do  well 
enough  for  legfslators  and  lobby  members,  but  for  a 
refined  and  cultivated  palate,  what  can  be  expected  from 
a  people  who  are  said  to  follow  the  antiquated  maxim 
of  the  old  song : 

"  I  eat  when  I'm  hungry,  and  drink  when  I'm  dry," — 

a  maxim  in  itself  so  utterly  vulgar  and  detestable,  that 
it  could  only  have  originated  in  the  fancy  of  some  half 
starved  ballad  monger,  who  considered  the  mere  filling 
of  his  stomach,  as  the  perfection  of  human  happiness^ 
Any  fool  can  eat  when  he  is  hungry,  and  drink  when  he 
is  dry,  provided  he  can  get  any  thing  to  eat  or  drink ; 
this  is  the  bliss  of  a  quadruped,  devoid  of  the  reasoning 
faculty.  But  to  enjoy  the  delight  of  eating  without 
appetite,  to  be  able  to  bring  back  the  sated  palate  to  a 
relish  of  some  new  dainty,  to  reanimate  the  exhausted 
energies  of  the  faulting  stomach,  and  waken  it  to  new 
exstacies  of  fruition ;  to  get  dyspepsias,  and  provoke 
apoplexies,  is  the  privilege  of  man  alone,  whose  reason 
has  been  refined,  expanded,  and  perfected  by  travel  and 


187 

experience.  The  happiest  man,  in  our  opinion,  we  ever 
knew,  was  a  favoured  being  who  possessed  the  furor 
of  eating  in  greater  perfection  than  all  the  rest  of  his 
species.  He  would  eat  a  whole  turkey,  a  pair  of  can 
vass  backs,  and  a  quarter  of  mutton,  at  a  sitting,  and 
finish  with  a  half  bushel  of  peaches.  He  was  indeed 
an  example  to  his  species  ;  but  he  was  too  good  for  this 
world,  and  was  maliciously  taken  off  by  an  unlucky 
bone,  at  a  turtle  feast  at  Hoboken,  where  he  .excelled 
even  himself,  and  died  a  blessed  martyr.  The  only 
consolation  remaining  to  his  friends,  is  that  he  was  after 
wards  immortalized  in  the  following  lines  of  the  famous 
prize  poet,  who  happened  to  be  at  the  feast  which  proved 
so  disastrous. 

"  Here  lies  a  man  whom  flesh  could  ne'er  withstand, 

But  bone  alas  !  did  gel  the  upper  hand. 

Death  in  the  shape  of  turtle,  venison,  fowl, 

Oft  came  and  shook  his  scythe  with  ghastly  scowl, 

But  hero  like  he  d d  him  for  a  bore, 

And  cried  undaunted  '  waiter  bring  us  more !' 
At  last  death  came  in  likeness  of  a  bone, 
And  the  pot-valiant  champion  was  o'erthrown. 
If  death  one  single  ounce  of  flesh  had  had, 
'Twould  have  been  all  over  with  him  there,  egad  ; 
A  broil  of  him,  our  hungry  friend  had  made 
And  turtle-clubs  been  never  more  dismay'd, 
By  the  gaunt  imp  of  chaos  and  old  night, 
Who  spoils  full  many  a  glorious  appetite*" 

"  At  Albany,"  as  Alderman  Janson  observes,  "  ends 
the  proper  sloop  navigation  of  the  Hudson.  It  is  true 
they  do  manage  to  get  them  up  as  far  as  Troy,  and 
Lansingburgh,  and  even  Waterford.  But  nature  never 


188 

intended  they  should  go  farther  than  Albany.  It  was1 
in  full  confidence  of  this  that  the  first  colony  pitched 
upon  Albany,  as  the  site  of  a  great  city  which  was  des 
tined  in  a  happy  hour,  to  become  the  capital  of  the  state. 
Unfortunate  adventurers !  they  never  dreamed  of  the 
march  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  progress  of  public 
improvements ;  or  of  companies  incorporated  for  the 
performance  of  miracles.  They  never  surmised  the 
possibility  of  a  great  river  like  the  Hudson,  the  master 
piece  of  the  Creator  of  the  universe,  being  improved 
by  an  act  of  the  legislature  ;  nor  did  it  ever  enter  into 
their  matter  of  fact  brains  that  the  posterity  of  Philo 
Longfellow  would  found  a  city  as  it  were  right  over  their 
heads  at  Troy,  and  thus  interrupt  the  rafts  coming 
down  the  river  to  Albany.  What  a  pity  it  is  people 
cannot  see  a  little  farther  into  millstones  !  what  glorious 
speculations  we  should  all  make,  except  that  every  body 
being  equally  enlightened  as  to  the  future,  there  would  be 
no  speculation  at  all,  which  would  be  a  terrible  thing  for 
those  useful  people,  who  having  no  money  themselves, 
disinterestedly  go  about  manufacturing  excellent  pro 
jects,  to  drain  the  pockets  of  those  who  have.  Money 
is  in  truth  like  an  eel,  it  is  easy  to  catch  it,  but  to  hold 
it  fast  afterwards,  is  rather  a  difficult  matter.  And  here 
I  am  reminded  of  the  fate  of  an  honest  codger  of  my 
acquaintance,  who  had  become  rich  by  a  long  course  of 
industry  and  economy,  and  at  the  age  of  forty-five  set 
himself  down  in  a  smart  growing  town,  not  a  hundred 
miles,  from  I  forget  where,  to  enjoy  the  life  of  a 
gentleman. 

*'  Martin  Forbush,  that  was  his  name,  lived  a  whole 


189 

year  in  his  otium  cum  dignitate,  at  the  end  of  which  he 
became  rather  dispeptic,  and  began  to  get  out  of  hu 
mour  with  the  life  of  a  gentleman.  Of  all  the  castles 
ever  built  in  the  air,  the  castle  of  indolence  is  the  worst. 
Ease  *  is  not  to  be  bought  with  wampum,  or  paper  mo 
ney,'  asHorace  says ;  a  man  must  have  some  employment, 
or  pursuit — or  at  least  a  hobby  horse,  or  he  can  never 
be  easy  in  this  world.  To  one  who  has  been  all  his 
life  making  money,  the  mere  enjoyment  of  his  wealth, 
is  not  worth  a  fig.  Even  the  summum  bonum,  the  great 
good,  eating,  has  its  limits,  and  nothing  is  wanting  to 
the  happiness  of  a  rich  man,  but  that  his  appetite  should 
increase  with  his  means  of  gratifying  it.  But  alas  !  it 
would  seem  that  every  enjoyment  of  life,  is  saddled 
with  its  penalty,  and  that  the  gratification  of  the  senses, 
carries  with  it  the  elements  of  its  own  punishment. 
The  very  food  we  devour  rises  up  in  judgment  against 
us.  The  turtle  is  revenged  by  "apoplexy,  dyspepsia, 
epilepsy,  and  catalepsy.  But  the  subject  is  too  heart 
rending. 

"  While  honest  Martin  was  thus  dying  by  inches,  of 
a  gentleman's  life,  and  pining  away  both  corporeally  and 
mentally,  under  the  incubus  of  idleness,  as  good  luck 
would  have  it,  a  stirring,  long  headed,  ingenious,  specu 
lative,  poor  d- 1,  came  to  settle  in  the  town,  which 

as  nature  had  done  little  or  nothing  for  it,  was  the  finest 
place  that  could  be  for  public  improvements  of  all  kinds. 
He  was  inexhaustible  in  plans  for  laying  out  capital  to 
the  greatest  advantage ;  he  never  saw  a  river  that  he 
could  not  make  navigable,  a  field  that  he  could  nol 
make  produce  four  fold,  or  a  fall  of  three  feet  perpendicu- 


190 

lar  that  was  not  the  finest  place  in  the  world  for  mills  and 
manufactories.  All  he  wanted  was  money,  and  that  he 
contrived  to  make  others  supply,  which  was  but  reasona 
ble.  It  would  have  been  too  much  for  him  to  furnish  both 
the  money  and  wit. 

"  The  first  thing  such  a  public  spirited  person  does, 
on  locating  himself  among  the  people  whom  he  has 
come  to  devour,  is  to  find  me  out  all  those  snug 
fellows,  who  have  ready  money  in  their  purses,  and  dirt 
to  their  boots.  Men  that  have  a  few  thousands  lying  by 
them,  or  stock  that  they  can  turn  at  once  into  money, 
or  land  that  they  can  mortgage  for  a  good  round  sum. 
Having  smelled  out  his  game,  our  advocate  for  public 
improvement,  takes  every  opportunity  of  pointing  out 
capital  speculations,  and  hinting  that  if  he  only  had  a 
few  thousands  to  spare,  he  could  double  ihem  in  the 
course  of  two  or  three  years.  Martin  pricked  up  his 
his  ears.  He  longed  past  all  longing,  to  be  turning  a 
penny  to  advantage.  It  would  give  a  zest  to  his  life — i- 
it  would  employ  his  time  which  he  did  not  know  what  to 
do  with.  In  short,  he  listened  and  was  overcome.  He 
determined  to  immortalize  his  name  as  a  great  public 
benefactor,  and  double  his  money  at  the  same  time. 

"  There  was  a  river  about  a  hundred  yards  wide, 
running  close  to  the  skirts  of  the  town,  which  the  apostle* 
of  public  improvements  assured  Martin  was  the  finest- 
place  for  a  bridge  that  was  ever  seen.  It  seemed  to  be 
made  on  purpose.  There  was  not  the  least  doubt  but  it 
would  yield  from  thirty  to  fifty  per  cent  on  the  first  cost  in 
tolls.  Nothing  was  wanting  but  legislative  authority  for 
this  great  work.  He  would  go  to  Albany  next  session* 


191 

and  get  an  act  passed  for  that  purpose,  if  he  only  had  the 
money;  but  just  now  he  was  a  little  short,  one  of  his 
principal  debtors  having  disappointed  him. 

"  Honest   Martin,  rather  than  miss  such  a  capital 
speculation,  agreed  to  advance  the  needful,  and  at  a 
proper  time  the  redoubtable  Timothy  Starveling,   or 
Starling,  as  he  called  himself,  set  out  upon  his  mission, 
to   the   paradise    of  lobby  members.     Timothy  took 
lodgings  at  the  first  hotel,  kept  open   house,   treated 
most  nobly  with  honest  Martin  Forbush's  cash,  and 
wound  himself  into  the  confidence  of  two  senators  and 
five  members.     But  before  the  matter  was  decided  the 
money  was  run  out,  and  therefore  Timothy  Starveling 
wrote  a  most  mysterious  letter  to  Martin,  hinting  at  ex 
traordinary  expenses;  accommodating  members  with 
loans— small  matters,  that  told  in  the  end  ;  conciliating    ' 
influential  people  ;  oiling  the  wheels,  and  heaven  knows  J" 
what  else.     Martin  understood  not  one  word  of  all  this, 
but  rather  than  lose  his  money  and  his  project,  he  sent 
him  a  fresh  supply.     The  bridge,  notwithstanding,  stuck 
not  a  little  by  the  way,  owing  to  the  opposition  of  some 
who  had  not  been  properly  enlightened  on  the  subject ; 
but  by  dint  of  log-rolling,  it  floundered  through  at  last. 
Timothy  got  it  tacked  to  a  Lombard,  and  a  steam  saw 
mill,   and  the  business  was  accomplished.     Timothy, 
upon  the  strength  of  his  charter,  bought  a  carnage  and 
horses,  and  rode  home  in  style. 

"  Well,  they  set  to  work,  and  the  bridge  was  built 
with  Martin's  money.  But  it  brought  him  in  no  tolls, 
owing  to  the  circumstance  of  their  being  no  road  at  the 
end  of  it.  Martin  scratched  his  head ;  but  Timothv 


192 

vvas  nowise  dismayed.  All  they  had  to  do  was  to  make 
a  turnpike  road,  from  the  end  of  the  bridge  to  the  next 
town,  which  was  actually  laid  out,  though  not  actually 
built,  and  there  would  be  plenty  of  tolls.  *  Roads  make- 
travellers,'  quoth  Timothy,  and  Martin  believed  it. 
Another  act  of  the  legislature  became  necessary,  and 
the  same  thing  was  done,  as  at  Timothy's  last  mission. 
The  opposition  was  however  much  more  difficult  to 
overcome  than  on  the  former  occasion,  owing  to  an  ill 
natured  definition  given  by  a  country  member,  to  wit : 
*  That  a  turnpike  bill  was  a  law  to  enable  the  few,  to  tax 
the  many,  for  a  bad  road  kept  in  bad  repair.'  It  cost 
Martin  a  pretty  penny  to  get  permission  for  a  road,  and 
it  cost  him  a  prettier  penny  still  to  make  it.  However, 
made  it  was,  at  last.  Timothy  superintended,  and 
Martin  paid.  The  tolls  were  not  sufficient  to  pay  an 
old  woman  for  opening  the  gates.  Few  people  were 
tempted  by  their  occasions  to  pass  that  way,  and  those 
who  did,  forded  the  river,  it  being  shallow,  and  saved 
their  money. 

"  But  those  who  think  Master  Timothy  Starveling 
was  at  his  wit's  end  here,  reckon  without  their  host* 
You  might  as  well  catch  a  cat  asleep,  as  Timothy  at  a 
nonplus.  *  We'll  petition  for  an  act  to  deepen  the 
river,  and  thus  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone.  By  im 
proving  the  navigation,  we  shall  bring  vast  quantities 
of  produce  down,  which  will  make  the  town  the  grand 
emporium  of  this  part  of  the  country,  and  at  the  same 
time  so  deepen  the  channel,  that  it  will  not  be  fordable.' 
Martin  thought  the  idea  prodigious,  and  the  same  game 
was  played  a  third  time  by  Timothy  at  Albany.  They 


193 

improved  the  navigation  of  the  river  at  no  small  cost,  b) 
deepening  the  channel.  But  rivers  are  unmanageable 
commodities.  As  fast  as  they  deepened,  it  filled  up 
again,-  and  one  heavy  rain  deposited  more  mud  and 
sand,  than  could  be  removed  in  a  year.  In  short,  be 
fore  the  river  became  navigable,  or  the  road  and  bridge 
brought  in  their  thirty  to  fifty  per  cent,  the  purse  of 
Martin  Forbush  ceased  to  jingle  at  the  touch.  It  was 
as  empty  as  my  pocket. 

"  One  day  when  Master  Timothy  Starveling  came  to 
Martin  for  a  small  trifle  to  complete  the  project,  the 
former  worthy  gentleman,  crawled  forth  with  his  eye 
brows  elevated,  his  forehead  wrinkled,  and  his  shoulders 
almost  as  high  as  his  head,  and  pulling  his  breeches 
pockets  inside  out,  looked  most  ruefully  significant  at 
the  great  advocate  of  public  improvements.  '  Pooh/ 
said  the  latter,  *  there  is  a  remedy  for  all  things,  even 
for  an  empty  pocket ;  look  here,'  pulling  out  the  charter 
for  the  bridge,  « I've  got  an  iron  in  the  fire  yet,  I  thank 
you.'  Whereupon  he  showed  Martin  a  clause  in  the 
act  which  with  a  very  little  stretching  and  twisting,  might 
be  fairly  interpreted  into  a  privilege  for  banking.  Mar 
tin  was  now  pretty  desperate  and  caught  at  the  idea. 
They  got  together  all  the  paupers  of  the  town,  who 
subscribed  their  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands — they 
gave  their  notes  or  security  for  the  payment  of  their  sub 
scriptions — they  chose  Martin  president,  and  Timothy 
Cashier,  and  announcing  to  an  astonished  world,  which 
wondered  where  the  money  came  from,  that  <  the  stock 
was  all  paid  in,  or  secured  to  be  paid,'  proceeded 
ft*  (he  business  of  issuing  notes,  without  considering 
17 

1 


194 

how  they  were  to  be  paid.  For  a  while  they  went  oft 
prosperously.  There  will  always  be  found  a  sufficient, 
number  of  honest  fools  in  every  community,  for  rogues 
to  work  upon,  and  the  good  people  were  rejoiced  in  their 
hearts,  to  find  money  so  plenty.  But  in  an  evil  hour, 
there  appeared  at  the  bank  of  Diddledum,  a  spruce 
young  fellow  in  boots  and  spurs,  with  a  bundle  of  bank 
notes,  who  announced  himself  as  the  cashier  of  the  neigh 
bouring  bank,  of  Fiddledum,  and  demanded  the  pay 
ment  of  his  bundle  in  specie.  There  never  was,  nor 
was  there  now,  nor  ever  would  have  been,  a  dollar  of 
specie  in  the  bank  of  Diddledum.  This  ungentlemanly 
and  malicious  run,  being  what  no  one,  not  even  Timothy 
Starveling,  Esquire,  cashier,  had  ever  dreamed  of,  the 
Spruce  young  gentleman  in  boots  and  spurs,  was  civilly 
requested  to  wait  till  they  could  have  a  meeting  of  the 
directors.  But  the  young  gentleman  forthwith  went  to 
a  notary  and  got  all  the  notes  protested  ;  after  which 
he  placed  them  in  the  hands  of  a  lawyer,  who  commen 
ced  a  suit  on  each  of  them,  in  order  to  save  expense, 
The  spruce  young  gentleman  in  boots  and  spurs,  then 
departed  for  the  happy  village,  which  had  grown  so  fast 
under  the  refreshing  auspices  of  the  bank  of  Fiddledum, 
that  every  body  said  it  would  soon  outgrow  itself.  There 
were  sixty  new  houses,  three  great  hotels,  and  six  dis 
tilleries,  all  built  by  men  who  were  not  worth  a  groat. 
What  a  blessed  thing  is  paper  money,  and  its  legitimate 
offspring,  public  improvements ! 

"  But  blessed  as  it  is,  it  proved  the  downfall  of  Tin> 
othy  Starveling,  Esquire,  cashier  of  the  bank  of  Diddle* 
dum.  That  night,  the  bank  closed  its  doors,  to  open 


195 

wo  more,  and  the  ingenious  Timothy,  as  was  supposed, 
in  attempting  to  cross  the  river  on  horseback,  to  avoid 
the  '  public  sentiment,'  was  swept  away  by  the  stream, 
swelled  to  a  torrent  by  heavy  rains,  and  never  appeared 
again.  At  least  his  hat  was  found  several  miles  down 
the  river;  but  himself  and  his  horse,  could  never  be  dis 
covered,  although  the  '  Morgan  Committee'  took  up 
the  affair. 

"  Martin  Forbush,  was  stripped  of  all  his  hard  earn 
ings.  He  surrendered  his  bridge,  his  road,  and  his 
navigation  improvements  to  his  creditors — and  much  good 
did  it  do  them.  He  went  back  to  his  old  shop,  to  begin, 
the  world  anew.  In  process  of  time  he  became  once 
more  an  independent  man.  But  he  never  again  turned 
gentleman,  and  consequently  never  got  the  dyspepsia, 
He  never  burnt  his  fingers  afterwards  with  public  im 
provements,  and  nobody  could  ever  persuade  him  to 
make  a  speculation.  He  even  forgave  Timothy  Starve 
ling,  and  was  wont  to  say,  *  Plague  take  him ! — he  rob 
bed  me  of  all  my  money,  but  then  he  cured  me  of  the 
blue  devils.'  " 

We  would  advise  the  fashionable  tourist,  and  to  none 
other  is  this  work  addressed,  who  of  course  is  hurrying 
directly  to  the  springs,  to  go  by  the  way  of  the  Cohoes, 
Waterford,  and  as  far  as  possible  keep  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson.  "  Leaving  Albany,"  says  Alderman  Janson, 
"  you  come  upon  those  rich  flats,  that  present  a  soft  ar 
cadian  scene,  beautified  with  all  the  products  of  nature, 
and  industrious  man.  The  meadows  are  peopled  with 
luxurious  Dutch  cattle,  basking  in  the  shade  of  spread- 


196 

ing  elms  that  dot  the  landscape  here  and  there.  The 
fields  of  golden  wheat  just  ripening  in  the  sunny  month 
of  July,  the  dark  green  leaves  of  the  blessed  corn, 
flaunting  like  ribbons  about  the  brow  of  youth — bound 
ed  on  one  side  by  the  swelling,  rolling  hills,  on  the  other 
by  the  glassy  river,  all  present  together  a  scene  worthy 
of  the  golden  age,  and  of  the  simple  virtuous  patriarchs 
who  yet  inhabit  there,  smoking  their  pipes,  and  talking 
Dutch,  in  spite  of  the  changes  of  fashion,  the  vagaries 
of  inflated  vanity,  which  instill  into  the  hearts  of  the 
foolish,  that  alteration  is  improvement,  and  that  one  ge 
neration  of  man  is  wiser  than  another.  It  is  thus  thai; 
youth  laughs  at  age,  and  that  the  forward  urchin,  who 
knows  nothing  of  the  world  but  its  vices  and  follies, 
thinks  himself  wiser,  than  his  grandfather  of  fourscore." 
"  One  day  the  Caliph  Almansor,  one  of  the  vainest 
of  the  Arabian  monarchs,  was  conversing  familiarly 
with  the  famous  poet  Fazelli,  with  whom  he  delighted  to 
talk,  when  retired  from  the  cares  of  his  empire.  *  Thou 
thinkest,'  said  he  to  Fazelli,  '.  that  I  am  not  wiser  than 
my  father.  Why  is  it  so  ;  doth  not  every  succeeding 
generation  add  to  the  wisdom  of  that  which  preceded 
it  V  'Dost  thou  think  thyself  wiser,  than  the  pro 
phet  t'  answered  the  poet,  bowing  his  head  reveren 
tially.  *  Assuredly  not,'  answered  the  caliph.  '  Dost 
thou  think  thyself  wiser  than  Solomon  V  asked  the 
poet,  bowing  still  lower.  '  Assuredly  not,'  again  answer 
ed  the  caliph.  '  Dost  thou  think  thyself  wiser  than 
Moses  who  communed  with  Allah  himself?  a  third 
time  asked  the  poet  bowing  to  the  ground.  Almansoi? 
was  for  a  moment  very  thoughtful  and  held  down  his 


*» 

head.     *  Assuredly  not,'  replied  he  at  length,  i  I  were 
foolishly  presumptuous  to  think  so.' 

"  *  Then  how,'  resumed  Fazelli,  *  canst  thou  prove 
that  each  succeeding  generation  is  wiser  than  another 
that  is  past?'  <  The  aggregate  of  knowledge  is  cer 
tainly  increased,'  replied  the  caliph.  *  True  O  my  king,5 
replied  Fazelli,  '  but  knowledge  is  not  wisdom.  Wisdom 
points  out  the  road  to  happiness  and  virtue ;  knowledge, 
is  only  an  acquaintance  with  a  mass  of  facts,  which  are 
not  necessarily  connected,  with  cither  wisdom,  virtue  or 
happiness,  the  only  objects  worthy  the  pursuit  of  a  wise 
man.  The  knowledge  of  things  has  certainly  increased, 
but  O  king !  remember  that  wisdom  is  always  the  same ; 
as  much  so  as  the  great  power  by  whom  it  is  dispen 
sed.  Thou  mayest  perhaps  know  more  of  the  moon, 
the  stars,  the  earth,  and  the  seas,  than  thy  father ;  but  of 
thy  organizational!/  soul,  thy  passions,  appetites,the  pow 
er  to  direct  them,  and  the  Being  who  bestowed  them  upon 
thee,  thou  knowest  no  more  than  the  meanest  of  thy 
father's  slaves.'  '  Thou  sayest  true,'  replied  the  Caliph 
bowing  his  head  reverently — « Allah  teach  me  humility.' 
*  Great  king,'  said  Fazelli,  'lament  not  thine  ignorance. 
Every  thing  we  cannot  comprehend,  furnishes  proof  of 
the  existence  of  a  Being  wiser  than  ourselves.' '" 

Infandam  regina — we  despise  Latin  scraps  ever  since 
the  publication  of  the  dictionary  of  quotations.  But 
who  has  not  heard  of  Troy — not  that  famous  city  which 
Jacob  Bryant  maintained  never  had  an  existence,  al 
though  it  has  made  more  noise  in  the  world,  than  the 
greatest  matter  of  fact  cities  extant — not  the  city  which 
thousands  of  travellers  have  gone  to  see,  and  come 

17* 
- 


198 

away,  without  seeing — not  the  city  which  sustained  a 
ten  years  siege,  and  was  at  last  taken  by  a  wooden 
horse ;  no  verily,  but  the  indubitable  city  of  Troy,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  which  is  worth  three  thousand 
beggarly  Scamanders,  and  six  thousand  Hellesponts* 
We  are  aware  that  this  excellent  town,  which  contains 
at  this  moment  Helens  enough  to  set  the  whole  world 
on  fire,  is  pronounced  by  that  great  geographer  and  tra 
veller,  Lieutenant  De  Roos,  to  be  in  New  England.  Pe 
rish  the  thought !  New  England  never  had  such  a  town 
to  its  back ;  so  full  of  enterprizing  people,  continually 
plotting  against  the  repose  of  dame  nature.  Alexander 
once  seriously  contemplated  cutting  M  ount  Athos  into 
a  statue  ;  King  Stephanus  Bombastes,  lost  his  wits  with 
the  idea  of  making  Bohemia  a  maritime  power ;  whence 
it  was,  that  Corporal  Trim  very  properly  called  him, 
4  This  unfortunate  king  of  Bohemia  ;'  and  a  great  ad 
vocate  of  public  improvements,  is  now  so  unluckily  mad 
on  the  subject,  that  he  fancies  himself  a  great  chip, 
floating  all  weathers  on  the  great  northern  canal.  But 
all  these  are  nothing  to  the  Trojans,  who  it  is  said  seri 
ously  contemplate  a  canal,  parallel  with  the  Hudson, 
from  Troy  to  New  York,  if  they  can  only  get  the  legis 
lature  to  pass  an  act  against  its  freezing.  Alas  !  poor 
river  gods !  what  will  become  of  them,  as  sings  the 
famous  prize  poet,  whom  we  hereby  solemnly  affirm,  in 
our  opinion,  deserves  to. have  his  whiskers  curled  on  th<5 
very  pinnacle  of  Parnassus  : 

"  Noah  be  hang'd,  and  all  his  race  accurst^ 
Who  in  sea  brine  did  pickle  timber  first !» 


199 

Meaning  to  say,  that  your  salt  water  rivers  are  no  longer 
to  be  tolerated,  and  ought  to  be  forthwith  legislated  out 
of  their  waters  as  soon  as  possible.  It  is  a  great  thing 
to.  know  what  poets  mean  now  a  days.  They  are  the 
true  "children  of  mist."  But  to  continue  our  quotation  : 

"  O  Trojan  Greeks  !  who  dwell  at  Ida's  foot, 

Pull  up  this  crying  evil  by  the  root ; 

Rouse  in  the  mighty  majesty  of  mind, 

Pull  up  your  mighty  breeches  tight  behind, 

Then  stretch  the  red  right  arm  from  shore  to  shore, 

And  swear  that  rivers  shall  endure  no  more  !." 

"It  is  almost  worth  while,"  says  Alderman  Jansoo, 
"  to  sacrifice  a  few  hours  of  the  delights  of  the  springs, 
to  ascend  Mount  Ida,  and  see  the  romantic  little  cas 
cade,  a  capital  place  for  manufactories.  In  the  opinion 
of  some  people,  this  is  all  that  water  falls  are  good 
for  now  a  days.  I  would  describe  it,  but  for  fear  of 
drawing  the  attention  of  some  prowling  villain,  who 
Would  perhaps  come  and  build  a  cotton  mill,  and  set  all 
the  pretty  little  rosy  cheeked  Helens  of  Troy  tending 
spinning  jennies,  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  and  long  after, 
at  a  shilling  a  day,  instead  of  leaving  them  to  the  enjoy 
ment  of  the  few  hours  of  rest  and  careless  hilarity  which 
God  in  his  wisdom  hath  appropriated  to  the  miserable 
pack  horses  of  this  age  of  improvements.  The  domes*- 
tic  industry  of  females,  is  at  home,  by  the  fireside,  in 
the  society  of  their  families,  surrounded  and  protected 
by  their  household  gods ;  not  in  woollen  and  cotton 
mills,  herded  together  by  hundreds,  and  toiling  without 
intermission  at  the  everlasting  spinning  jenney,  without 


200 

leisure  to  cultivate  the  domestic  virtues,  or  opportunity 
for  mental  improvement.  Of  all  the  blockheads  this 
side  of  the  moon,  in  my  opinion  the  farmers  of  these 
United  States  are  the  greatest,  considering  the  pains 
taken  by  the  members  of  congress  and  others  to  en 
lighten  them.  What  in  the  name  of  all  the  thick  sculled 
wiseacres  past,  present  and  to  come,  do  they  want  of  a 
1  woollen  bill,'  and  what  do  the  blockheads  expect,  from 
getting  a  penny  or  two  more  perhaps  a  pound  for  their 
wool,  except  to  pay  twice  as  much  a  yard  for  the  cloth 
which  is  made  out  of  it "?  Why  dont  they  learn  wisdom 
from  their  own  sheep  ? 

"  A  cunning  old  fox  one  day  put  his  head  through  the 
bars  of  a  sheepfold,  and  addressed  the  flock  as  follows  : 
1  Gentlemen,  I  have  a  proposition  to  make  greatly  to 
your  advantage  ;  I'll  give  you  a  penny  a  pound  more  for 
your  wool  (if  you'll  only  let  me  shear  you)  one  of  these 
days,  provided  you'll  pay  me  in  the  meantime  a  dollar 
more  a  yard  for  the  cloth  I  make  out  of  it.'  Where 
upon  an  old  ram  of  some  experience,  cried  'Baah!'  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  sheep  followed  his  example." 

In  speaking  of  Troy,  Alderman  Janson,  who  was  a 
great  hunter  of  manuscripts,  states  that  he  saw  there  a 
curious  poem,  written  by  a  schoolmaster  of  Troy  about 
forty  years  ago,  in  imitation  of  Homer's  Batrachomy- 
omachia. 

As  a  specimen,  the  worthy  alderman  has  copied  the 
invocation,  which  we  insert,  with  a  view  of  indicating 
the  corruption  of  the  public  press  at  that  period.  We 
congratulate  our  readers  at  the  same  time  on  the  im- 

' 


201 

provement  which  the  march  of  mind  hath  brought  about 
in  this  as  well  as  every  thing  else. 

"  '  Thee  we  invoke,  O  sacred  nine  ! 
No,  not  the  sacred  nine,  but  thou 

The  youngest  sister  of  the  nine,  unknown  in  ancient  song  ! 
Thou  the  TENTH  MUSE  !  begot  as  legends  tell, 
By  printer's  devil  on  a  famous  shrew 
(Who  had  kill'd  nine  husbands  with  eternal  clacking,) 
Up  in  a  garret  high,  between  two  newspapers. 
One  Jackson  t'other  Adams. 
There  thou  didst  learn  thy  alphabet, 
Midst  Billingsgate  most  dire  ; 
Loud  blustering  lies  and  whispered  calumnies, 
Were  thy  first  lessons  in  the  art  of  speech ; 
Next  impudence  became  thy  dry  nurse, 
And  did  teach  thy  genius  apt,  to  mouth  with  high  pretence, 
Of  arts  and  literature,  science  profound, 
And  taste  pre-eminent,  stol'n  from  the  man  in  the  moon, 
Or  God  knows  where.     There  thou  didst  learn 
To  judge  of  what  thou  wert  profoundly  ignorant  ; 
To  criticise  a  classic  in  false  grammar, 
And  in  bad  English  all  the  world  defy  ! 
There  too,  as  stories  go,  thou  didst  become 
A  connoisseur  in  Flemish  and  Italian  schools, 
Albeit  thou  never  sawest  a  picture  in  Ihy  life, 
Save  on  a  sign  post  at  a  tavern  door  ; 
To  scan  with  taste  infallible  and  nice, 
A  bust  or  statue,  by  approved  rules, 
Gathered  from  frequent  contemplation  deep 
Of  barbers'  blocks,  and  naked  blackamoors, 
Stuck  up  by  wicked  wights  to  lure  our  youth 
To  shave  their  beards,  and  chew  tobacco  dire. 
There  too,  thou  learn'dst  to  quaff  oblivion's  bowl, 
Fill'd  to  the  brim  with  foaming  printers'  ink ; 
To  forget  to-morrow  what  the  day  before 
Thou  sworest  was  gospel  j  to  say,  unsay, 


202 

And  praise  a  man  one  hour,  whom  in 
Thou  didst  consign  to  ignominious  shame, 
In  phrase  most  apt  and  delicate,  though  stolen 
From  an  old  fish  wife,  drunk  and  in  a  passion. 
There  too,  amid  the  din  of  politics  and  lies, 
Thou  learn'dst.  to  be  a  judge  infallible 
Of  public  virtue  and  of  private  worth  ; 
To  moot  nice  points  of  morals,  and  decide 
On  things  obscure,  that  for  long  ages  past 
Have  puzzled  all  mankind,  and  dried  the  brains 
Of  luckless  sages  ta  the  very  bottom, 
Bare  as  mud  puddles  in  a  six  months'  drought. 

" « Hail  MUSE  THE  TENTH,  worth  all  the  other  nine  f 
Presiding  genius  of  our  liberties, 
We  hail  t hee  on  our  knees,  and  humbly  beg, 
Thou'lt  not  forget  who  'twas  in  modern  days, 
First  call'd  thee  from  oblivion,  and  install'd  thee, 
Goddess  of  men,  whom  gods  and  men  do  fear.'" 

The  alderman  boasts  that  the  poem  is  soon  to  be 
published  simultaneously  in  five  different  languages,  in 
five  different  countries,  by  five  different  booksellers,  with 
five  puffs  of  five  first  rate  journals  in  each  language. 
We  think  the  friends  of  the  author  had  better  advise 
him  to  leave  out  the  invocation. 

"  There  is  a  rock,'*  continues  the  worthy  alderman 
in  great  wrath,  "  on  Mount  Ida,  all  covered  with  dia 
monds,  better  than  you  can  make  of  charcoal,  where  I 
would  recommend  the  ladies  to  stop,  and  supply  them 
selves  for  the  springs,  instead  of  flaunting  about  in  chy- 
mical  jewels,  as  is  the  fashion  now.  And  here  I  must 
beg  leave  to  digress  a  little  to  offer  my  testimony 
against  the  progress  of  knowledge,  which  when  accom 
panied  by  a  corresponding  progress  in  vice  and  disho- 


203 

uesty,  is  a  curse  rather  than  a  blessing.  If  there  is  & 
thorough  going  rascal  and  cheat  in  this  world,  it  is  chy- 
mistry,  who  is  perpetually  practising  deceptions  upon 
mankind.  The  scoundrel  can  imitate,  or  disguise  every 
thing.  He  can  make  a  piece  of  glass  into  diamonds, 
rubies,  sapphires,  and  topazes,  so  that  none  but  a  jewel 
ler,  who  is  commonly  as  great  a  rogue  as  himself,  can 
detect  them.  He  can  make  excellent  beer,  without 
either  malt  or  hops  ;  and  what  is  worthy  of  remark,  it 
will  not  poison  a  man  half  as  soon  as  arsenic  or  coppe 
ras.  He  can  make  tea  out  of  turnip  tops,  so  as  to 
deceive  a  China  merchant ;  he  can  make  gas  out  of  coal 
cinders,  and  money  out  of  gas  ;  he  can  extract  the  red 
ink  out  of  a  check  and  leave  the  black  ink  untouched ; 
he  can  change  a  bank  note  of  one  dollar  into  one  of  a 
hundred ;  he  can  adulterate  confectionary,  and  poison 
half  mankind  without  their  being  a  whit  the  wiser,  ex 
cept  they  learn  something  after  death.  In  short,  it  is 
my  humble  opinion,  that  if  the  worthy  revisors  of  out 
laws,  had  decreed  to  hang  every  professor  of  chymistry 
except  such  as  could  demonstrate  their  entire  ignorance 
of  the  science,  and  put  their  scholars  to  learning  trades 
it  would  prevent  the  ladies  from  wearing  false  jewels^ 
and  add  greatly  to  the  honesty  of  the  rising  generation. 
It  is  bad  enough  for  women  to  wear  false  curls,  false 
faces  and  false  hearts,  without  deceiving  us  with  false 
jewels.  One  can  bear  the  disappointment  in  the  heart 
and  the  face,  but  to  be  taken  in,  in  the  diamonds,  i& 
heart  breaking." 

"  Troy,"  according  to  Alderman  Janson,  "is  already 
Accommodated  with  a  bank  or  two,  without  winch  oitf 


304 

poor  little  helpless  villages  would  be  like  children  with 
out  nurses.  But  people  are  never  content  in  this  world, 
notwithstanding  the  march  of  mind,  and  the  progress  of 
public  improvement,  and  the  Trojans  are  at  this  moment 
petitioning  the  legislature  for  another  bank,  utterly  forget 
ful  of  the  old  proverb  that  too  much  of  a  good  thing  is  good 
for  nothing.  Were  I  to  define  a  legislature  of  the  present 
approved  fashion,  I  would  say  it  was  a  public  body  exclu 
sively  occupied  with  private  business  ;  for  in  truth  were 
We  to  look  closely  at  their  proceedings,  we  should  find 
almost  all  of  them  spending  the  whole  of  their  time 
in  passing  bills  for  banks,  incorporating  companies 
for  the  most  frivolous  purposes,  mending  old  char 
ters,  and  making  new  ones.  In  the  mean  time,  the  general 
interests  of  the  people  are  neglected,  and  laws  affecting 
the  whole  community,  either  not  passed  at  all,  or  passed 
so  full  of  imperfections,  that  it  is  more  trouble  to  mend 
them  afterwards,  than  to  make  new  ones.  A  plague  on 
this  busy  spirit  which  is  called  the  spirit  of  improve 
ment,  but  which  is  nothing  more  than  an  impertinent 
disposition  to  meddle  with  the  concerns  of  other  people, 
and  so  substitute  our  own  theoretical  notions  in  place  of 
the  practical  experience  of  others.  Why  not  '  let  very 
\yell  alone  ?' 

11 1  once  had  two  near  neighbours,  who  lived  in  a  couple 
of  old  fashioned  Dutch  houses,  which  though  they  made 
JIG  great  figure  without,  were  very  snug  and  comforta 
ble  within,  and  accorded  very  well  with  their  circumstan 
ces,  which  were  but  moderate.  One  of  the  houses  hail 
sunk  at  one  of  the  corners  a  few  inches,  in  consequence 
of  some  little  defect  in  the  foundation ;  but  this  had  * 


205 

happened  twenty  years  before,  and  the  building  had  ever 
since  remained  perfectly  stable,  being  reckoned  not  the 
least  injured,  or  the  worse  for  this  little  eccentricity  of 
shape.  The  other  house  had  some  little  defect  in  the 
chimney,  which  although  it  might  as  well  not  have  been 
there,  was  of  no  serious  consequence.  Both  lived  per 
fectly  content,  and  if  a  wish  would  have  removed  these 
trifling  defects,  they  would  hardly  have  taken  the  trouble 
to  utter  it. 

"  In  process  of  time  however  the  spirit  of  improve 
ment  got  into  our  part  of  the  town,  and  some  great  little 
busy  body,  suggested  to  the  owners  of  the  two  houses, 
the  perfect  ease  with  which  the  sunken  corner  and  the 
crooked  chimney,  might  be  remedied  at  a  trifling  ex 
pense.  At  first  they  wisely  shook  their  heads  ;  but  the 
advice  was  repeated  every  day,  and  every  body  knows 
that  the  perpetual  repetition  of  the  same  thing,  is  like 
the  dropping  of  water — it  will  wear  away  a  stone  at  last. 
My  two  neighbours  at  length  began  to  talk  over  the  mat 
ter  seriously  together,  and  one  day  came  to  consult  me 
On  the  matter.  *  Let  very  well  alone,'  said  I,  and  they 
Went  away,  according  to  custom  to  do  exactly  contrary 
to  the  advice  they  came  to  solicit.  The  owner  of  the 
house  with  the  sunken  corner,  and  he  of  the  crooked 
chimney,  accordingly  the  next  day  went  to  work  under 
the  direction  of  the  disciple  of  public  improvements, 
to  remedy  these  mortal  inconveniences  which  they  had 
borne  for  more  than  twenty  years  with  the  most  perfect 

1   convenience.     One  got  a  great  jack  screw  under  the 
delinquent  corner ;    the   other  raised  a  mighty  beam 

pagainst  his  chimney,  and  to  work,  they  went,  screwing 

18 


206 

and  pushing  with  a  vengeance.  In  less  than  fifteen  mi* 
mites,  the  crooked  chimney,  being  stubborn  with  age7 
and  withal  somewhat  infirm,  instead  of  quietly  return 
ing  to  the  perpendicular,  broke  short  off,  and  falling 
through  the  roof,  upon  the  garret  floor,  carried  that  with 
it,  and  the  whole  mass  stopped  not  to  rest,  till  it  found 
solid  bottom  in  the  cellar.  It  was  well  that  the  dame 
and  all  the  children,  were  out  of  doors,  witnessing  the 
progress  of  the  experiment.  Here  was  an  honest, 
comfortable  little  Dutch  house,  sacrificed  to  the  im 
provement  of  a  crooked  chimney. 

"  The  man  of  the  sunken  corner,  succeeded  to  his 
utter  satisfaction,  in  placing  the  four  corners  on  a  level, 
and  was  delighted  with  his  improvement ;  until  going  into 
his  house,  he  beheld  with  utter  dismay,  that  the  shock 
given  to  the  old  edifice,  and  the  disturbance  of  its  vari 
ous  parts  which  had  been  cemented  by  time  into  one  solid 
mass,  had  cracked  his  walls,  so  that  they  looked  like  a 
fish  net,  dislocated  the  window  sills,  removed  the  ends 
of  the  beams  from  their  ancient  resting  places,  in  short, 
wrecked  the  whole  establishment.  It  was  become  like 
a  sieve,  and  the  next  time  it  rained,  the  whole  family 
came  out  like  drowned  rats.  There  was  not  a  dry 
corner  in  the  whole  house,  nor  a  dry  thread  on  its  occu 
pants. 

"  The  poor  man  set  himself  to  work  to  remedy  these 
inconveniences,  and  from  time  to  time  laid  out  a  great 
deal  of  money,  in  stopping  crannies,  and  setting  the  dis 
located  limbs.  But  all  would  not  do — the  whole  frame 
of  the  edifice  had  been  shaken  to  its  centre,  by  the  dis 
turbance  of  its  parts.  There  was  no  mending  it ;  and 


207 

nothing  was  left  but  to  pull  it  down,  and  build  a  ne\v 
one,  with  all  the  modern  improvements.  The  man  of 
the  crooked  chimney  also  resolved  to  do  the  same. 
But  the  man  who  begins  to  dig  a  new  cellar,  very  often 
commences  undermining  his  own  prosperity.  The 
houses  were  at  last  finished,  and  very  fine  houses  they 
Were — but  they  did  not  belong  to  the  owners.  They 
were  mortgaged  for  more  than  half  they  were  worth, 
and  in  process  of  time  money  growing  very  scarce} 
they  were  sold  for  just  enough  to  satisfy  the  creditors. 
The  end  of  all  was,  that  my  good  neighbours  had  ex 
changed  the  little  houses  with  the  sunken  corner  and 
crooked  chimney,  for  an  immense  mansion,  without 
walls  or  chimney.  They  were  literally  turned  out  of 
doors.  '  I  wish  we  had  let  very  well  alone,'  said  they 
to  me,  as  they  departed  to  the  wilderness  to  begin  the 
world  anew."  Truly  mine  uncle,  the  worthy  alderman, 
was  at  least  three  thousand  years  behind  the  spirit  of 
the  age.  Is  it  not  better  to  live  in  fine  houses  belong 
ing  to  other  people,  than  in  little  old  fashioned  ones  of 
our  -own  1  We  wish  the  alderman  was  alive  to  answer 
this  question. 

If  the  traveller  thinks  we  get  on  too  slowly,  in  his 
impatience  to  arrive  at  the  springs,  let  him  leave  us  and 
our  book  behind  him,  and  take  the  consequences. 
Does  he  think  we  are  a  high  pressure  steam  boat,  to 
travel  fifteen  miles  an  hour  without  stopping  a  moment 
to  look  round  and  consider  1  Or  is  he  so  desperately 
unlettered  and  behind  hand  with  the  spirit  of  the  age, 
as  to  implant  in  the  barren  wilderness  of  his  mind,  the 
motion,  that  the  business  of  book  making  is  like  that  of 


208 

brick  making,  a  plain,  straight  forward  handicraft  affair., 
wherein  a  man  has  nothing  to  do  but  mind  his  own  bu 
siness  ?  Belike  he  does  not  know,  that  to  make  a  book, 
it  is  necessary  to  tell  all  that  other  people  have  told 
before — toex  pand  the  little  grains  of  gold  dust,  which 
other  pains  taking  authors  have  picked  up  with  infinite 
labour,  till,  like  the  gold  beater,  he  makes  them  cover 
the  leaves  of  a  whole  folio.  Perhaps  he  has  never 
heard  of  the  great  poet,  Johannes  Secundus,  who  spun 
a  whole  volume  of  poetry  out  of  a  kiss — nor  of  the 
ever  to  be  renowned  and  never  to  be  forgotten  writer, 
who  divided  the  half  of  an  idea  into  six  parts,  and 
manufactured  a  volume  out  of  each — or  of  the  still 
greater  genius,  whom  we  place  on  the  tip  of  the  highest 
hair  in  the  head  of  Milton,  Shakspeare,  Cervantes,  and 
Voltaire,  who  composed  sixteen  works  without  any 
idea  at  all.  Preserve  us  ! — any  fool  may  write  with 
his  head  full  of  ideas  ;  but  no  one  knows  the  troubles 
of  an  author,  who  is  obliged  to  pick  up  his  crumbs  by 
the  way  side — to  diverge  to  the  right  and  to  the  left — to 
levy  contributions  upon  every  thing  and  every  body  he 
meets — to  skim  the  froth  of  wit,  and  dip  up  the  sedi 
ment  of  wisdom — to  repeat  the  same  thing  in  a  hun 
dred  different  ways,  and  disguise  it  each  time  in  such  a 
manner,  that  the  most  inquisitive  blue  stocking  cannot 
detect  it,  even  with  the  aid  of  her  spectacles  and  the 
reviewers.  This — this  is  labour,  this  is  mighty  toil ; 
and  it  is  the  pains  taking  writers  of  such  books,  that 
should  be  rewarded  with  money  and  immortality,  since 
the  labourer  is  always  worthy  of  his  hire.  He  works 
premeditatingly,  and  as  it  were  with  malice  afore* 


209 

thought ;  he  makes,  by  dint  of  hard  labour,  the  most 
barren  soil  productive,  while  your  boasted  genius 
merely  scratches  the  surface  of  the  rich  alluvion,  and 
behold  the  product  is  a  hundred  fold !  Therefore  it 
is,  we  say  again,  and  repeat  it  three  hundred  times,  that 
if  the  travelling  reader  is  not  willing  to  wait  with  us 
till  we  have  finished  descanting  on  the  Trojans,  let  him 
go  on  and  welcome.  We  wash  our  hands  of  him,  and 
there  is  an  end  of  the  matter. 

Nobody  knows  the  difficulty,  under  which  we  unfor 
tunate  authors  labour,  in  writing  a  book,  without  run 
ning  our  heads  against  the  rascally  ancients,  or  the  still 
more  rascally  moderns,  who  got  the  start  of  us,  and 
stole  all  our  ideas,  before  they  came  down  to  posterity. 
They  have  not  left  us  a  single  original  idea  to  our 
backs,  but  have  swallowed  up  every  thing  with  a  most 
insatiable  appetite  ;  insomuch  that  the  writers  of  the 
present  day,  are  many  of  them  obliged  to  become  ab 
surd  or  unintelligible,  in  order  to  strike  out  a  miserable, 
half  starved  novelty,  which  perishes  peradventure  at 
the  end  of  a  year,  in  spite  of  the  dry  nursing  and  stall 
feeding  of  diurnal  puffers.  The  art  of  printing  has 
ruined  literature,  and  destroyed  the  value  of  learning. 
Before  this  mischievous  invention,  which  is  justly  as 
cribed  to  the  devil,  a  manuscript  was  a  treasure,  and 
the  writer  of  it  a  phenomenon.  It  was  read  at  the 
Olympic  games,  and  the  author  crowned  with  bays, 
and  considered  on  a  footing  with  the  victors  in  the  cha 
riot  races,  and  in  boxing  matches.  Then  a  manu 
script  was  a  rarity,  a  bonne  bouche,  only  for  epicures 
on  high  days  and  holidays ;  now  a  book  is  no  greater 
18* 


210 

rarity  than  bacon  and  greens  in  Virginia,  and  the  clod 
hopper  of  this  country  returns  from  his  daily  labours 
to  a  book,  as  to  his  customary  supper  fare.  Then  too, 
the  fortunate  man,  who  got  possession  of  the  precious 
papyrus,  or  the  invaluable  parchment  roll,  had  it  all  to 
himself,  and  could  borrow  what  he  pleased,  without  be 
ing  called  upon  to  pay  the  penalty  of  being  cut  up  in 
a  review.  There  was  no  such  thing  as  plagiarism,  at 
least  there  was  no  finding  it  out,  which  is  quite  synony 
mous.  Even  in  later  days,  after  the  mischievous  and 
diabolical  art  of  multiplying  books  to  infinity  prevailed, 
we  find,  that  a  criminal  who  could  read,  might  plead  the 
benefit  of  clergy,  and  if  he  read  legit  ut  clericus,  he  was 
only  burnt  in  the  hand  instead  of  being  hanged.  But 
now,  in  good  faith,  if  every  man  was  to  escape  hang 
ing,  who  could  not  only  read,  but  who  had  written  a 
book,  Jack  Ketch  would  hold  a  sinecure,  and  there 
would  be  great  robbing  of  the  gallows.  It  is  without 
doubt  greatly  to  be  lamented,  that  the  practice  of  burn 
ing  books,  by  the  hands  of  the  common  hangman,  and 
cutting  off  the  ears  of  their  authors,  is  no  longer  in 
fashion.  In  this  way  the  world  got  rid  of  some  of 
these  crying  nuisances,  and  many  were  thereby  discou 
raged  from  inflicting  any  more  of  them  upon  their  un 
fortunate  fellow  creatures.  But  now,  forsooth,  such  is 
the  license  allowed  or  claimed,  that  the  least  morsel  of 
a  man  will  set  him  down,  pen  in  hand,  intermeddle  with 
the  deepest  matters,  run  away  with  a  subject  he  knows 
not  what  to  do  with,  when  he  has  got  it,  and  thereby 
prevent  some  great  scholar  from  thereafter  doing  it  jus- 


211 

tice.  Verily  little  men  should  never  meddle  with  great 
matters,  as  the  fable  aptly  advisee. 

A  cunning,  dexterous  angler  once  threw  his  line  into 
a  deep  clear  stream,  where  he  waited  patiently  and 
watchfully,  till  he  saw  a  fine  trout  slowly  come  forth 
from  his  profound  recess  under  the  cool  shady  bank, 
and  float  cautiously  towards  the  bait.  But  just  as  he 
was  about  swallowing  it,  a  little  rascally  minnow,  not  as 
long  as  my  finger,  darted  before  him,  took  hold  of  the 
hook,  and  away  he  skirred  with  it  to  the  shallowest  part 
of  the  brook.  The  trout  swam  slowly  back  to  his  re 
cess,  and  the  angler  pulling  up  the  minnow,  and  taking 
it  in  his  hand,  exclaimed  :  "  Thou  art  so  small  and 
contemptible,  that  I  would  let  thee  go  again,  were  it 
not  that  thy  impertinent  meddling  lost  me  a  fine  trout." 
So  saying,  he  cast  it  indignantly  on  the  sand,  where  it 
perished  miserably  in  the  noontide  sun. 

It  is  refreshing  to  see  the  advances  made  in  dress, 
and  other  evidences  of  the  "  march  of  mind,  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvement,"  in  Troy,  and  in  all 
our  little  villages  and  thriving  towns.  Every  village 
church  is  as  fine  as  a  fiddle  on  Sundays,  and  what  it 
wants  in  heads,  it  makes  up  in  hats.  The  fashions  of 
New  York  are  adopted  with  as  much  facility  in  a  coun 
try  village,  as  the  dress  of  a  Parisian  opera  dancer  is 
adopted  in  New  York,  and  the  same  rules  are  followed 
in  adapting  them  to  the  figure  and  person.  If  for  in 
stance,  a  belle  is  about  six  feet  high,  she  is  content 
with  a  hat  six  feet  in  circumference,  with  the  contents 
of  one  milliner's  shop  on  it,  by  way  of  ornament.  But 
if  she  is  but  four  feet  one,  it  is  agreeable  to  the  fashign- 


212 

able  rules  of  proportion  to  make  up  in  hat,  for  the  de 
ficiency  in  height.  She  must  have  a  hat  twice  as  large 
as  the  lady  of  six  feet,  and  two  milliners'  shops  at  least 
to  ornament  its  vast  expanse.  This  is  according  to 
the  law  of  nature,  which  bestows  the  largest  tops  on 
the  lowest  trees,  and  gives  to  the  cabbage  a  head  bigger 
than  that  of  a  sun  flower.  Some  egregious  cynics  will 
have  it  that  a  lady  ought  to  wear  a  hat,  somewhat  in  re 
ference  to  the  size  of  the  town  she  inhabits,  and  never 
one  larger  than  the  town  itself,  as  we  are  informed  has 
been  the  case  in  two  or  three  instances.  It  is  ob 
served  that  the  toad  stool — the  only  thing  in  nature 
whose  proportions  resemble  a  fashionable  woman  of  the 
present  dynasty — never  spreads  its  umbrella  beyond  the 
stump  which  it  proceeds  from,  and  that  this  rule  should 
govern  a  lady's  bonnet.  But  it  is  difficult  to  persuade 
the  sex  to  adopt  the  old  fashioned  notions  about  taste- 
and  proportion,  which  have  been  entirely  superseded  by 
the  march  of  mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improve 
ment.  And  so  much  the  better.  A  woman  who  never 
changes  even  from  bad  to  worse,  is  no  better  than  a 
rusty  weathercock,  which  never  shows  which  way  the 
wind  blows.  Nevertheless  people,  and  particularly 
women  and  bantams,  ought  never  to  hold  their  heads 
too  high,  as  the  following  pregnant  example  showeth. 

One  day  a  little  bantam  cock,  with  a  high  top  knot, 
who  was  exceedingly  vain  because  he  had  so  many  fea 
thers  to  his  legs,  that  he  could  hardly  walk,  seeing  a 
goose  duck  her  head  in  pass'ing  under  a  bar  at  least  six- 
feet  high,  thus  accosted  her :  "  Why  thou  miserable^ 
bare  legged  caitiff!  thou  shovel  nosed,  web  footed,  pi- 


213 

geon  toed  scavenger  of  the  highways !  thou  fool  of 
three  elements !  not  content  with  ignominiously  crawl 
ing  under  a  fence,  thou  must  even  nod  thy  empty  pate> 
by  way  of  confessing  thy  inferiority.  Behold  how  we 
bantams  do  these  things  !"  So  saying,  with  a  great 
deal  of  puffing  and  fluttering,  with  the  help  of  his  bill, 
he  managed  to  gain  the  top  of  the  fence,  where  he 
clapt  his  wings,  and  was  just  on  the  point  of  crowing 
in  triumph,  when  a  great  hawk,  that  was  sailing  over 
his  head,  pounced  down  on  him,  and  seizing  him  by  the 
top  knot,  carried  him  off  without  ceremony.  The 
goose,  cocking  her  eye,  and  taking  a  side  view  of  the 
affair,  significantly  shook  her  feathers,  and  the  next 
time  she  passed  under  a  bar,  bowed  her  head  lower 
than  ever. 

The  march  of  mind,  and  the  progress  of  public  im 
provement,  in  the  country  towns  and  villages,  appears 
moreover  in  the  great  progress  made  in  good  eating, 
and  other  elegant  luxuries.  The  great  republican  pa 
tent  of  nobility,  dyspepsy,  is  almost  as  common  in 
these,  as  in  New  York,  where  our  valet,  a  gentleman 
of  colour,  is  grievously  afflicted  with  it,  and  has  taken 
to  white  mustard  seed.  We  have  eaten  such  dinners 
among  the  burghers  of  Troy,  as  would  have  made  old 
Homer's  mouth  water,  could  he  have  seen  them. 
They  actually  emulated  those  of  a  first  rate  broker, 
who  does  not  owe  above  twice  as  much  as  he  ever  ex 
pects  to  pay,  and  can  therefore  afford  to  be  liberal. 
This  giving  of  good  dinners,  at  the  expense  of  other 
people,  is  a  capital  expedient  in  economy,  particularly 
deserving  of  imitation.  What  can  be  more  delightful, 


214 

than  to  see  our  companions  enjoying  themselves  with 
the  most  glorious  of  all  sublunary  delights,  at  the  ex 
pense  of  any  body  that  will  lend  us  money  ;  thus  ma 
king  friends,  and  gaining  immortal  glory  as  a  generous, 
liberal  fellow,  without  a  penny  of  one's  own  in  pocket ! 
People  are  always  so  grateful  too  for  good  dinners,  in 
somuch  that  we  have  known  a  "<l d  liberal,  open 

hearted  fellow,"  as  he  was  called,  who  had  ruined  three 
or  four  of  his  acquaintances,  by  giving  good  dinners,  at 
their  cost,  that  was  actually  invited  afterwards,  three 
times,  to  take  pot  luck  with  some  of  his  stall  fed 
friends,  who  had  grown  fat  upon  him.  We  remember 
being  at  one  of  this  liberal  fellow's  dinners,  when  the 
following  toast  was  drunk  with  great  applause,  while  he 
was  called  out  by  an  impertinent  creditor  :  "  Long  live 
our  hospitable  entertainer — if  he  dont  outlive  his  mo 
ney."  On  the  subject  of  these  village  feasts  and 
sylvan  luxuries,  see  SparTord's  Gazetteer,  for  many  ho 
nest  and  excellent  remarks.  As  a  fellow  labourer  in 
enlightening  travellers,  we  heartily  and  seriously  re 
commend  his  work  to  the  public  patronage.  Let  it  not 
be  understood,  that  we  singled  out  Troy  as  particularly 
distinguished  in  these  elegant  extravagancies.  But  if 
it  were,  the  inhabitants  deserve  no  credit  above  their 
neighbours,  seeing  there  are  two  or  three  banks  in  the 
town  ;  and  what  would  be  the  use  of  banks,  if  people 
did  not  spend  their  money  faster  than  they  earn  it  ? 

It  will  hardly  be  worth  the  traveller*  while  to  visit 
Troy,  except  to  partake  of  these  good  dinners ;  for  after 
reading  our  book,  he  will  know  more  about  it  than  he 
could  learn  in  ten  visits,  and  being  now  so  near  the  fo» 


215 

cus  of  all  worldly  delights,  the  springs,  every  moment 
becomes  precious.  Let  him  therefore  keep  on  the 
west  side  of  the  river,  crossing  the  Mohawk  just  below 
the  Cohoes  Falls,  of  which  he  will  have  a  fine  view 
from  the  bridge.  Here  he  may  stop  fifteen  minutes  to 
look  at  the  locks  which  connect  the  great  canal  with  the 
Hudson,  as  a  flight  of  steps  connects  the  upper  and 
lower  stories  of  a  house.  "  Without  doubt,"  observes 
our  old  fashioned  friend,  Alderman  Janson,  whom  we 
quote  as  the  great  apostle  of  antediluvian  notions, 
"  without  doubt  canals  and  locks  are  good  things  in 
moderation ;  but  some  how  or  other,  I  think  I  have  a 
prejudice  in  favour  of  rivers,  where  they  are  to  be  had, 
and  where  they  are  not,  people  may  as  well  make  up 
their  minds  to  do  without  them.  In  sober  truth,  it  is 
my  firm  opinion,  and  I  dont  care  whether  any  body 
agrees  with  me  or  not,  that  the  great  operation  of  a  ca 
nal  is,  merely  to  concentrate  on  its  line,  and  within  its 
immediate  influence,  that  wealth,  population,  and  busi 
ness,  which,  if  let  alone,  would  diffuse  themselves  na 
turally,  equally,  and  beneficially  through  every  vein  and 
artery  of  the  country.  The  benefits  of  a  canal  are  con 
fined  to  a  certain  distance,  while  all  beyond  is  actually 
injured,  although  all  pay  their  proportion  of  the  ex 
penses  of  its  construction." 

"  I  was  once,"  continues  the  alderman,  "  a  little  mad 
\nyself  in  the  canal  way,  like  most  people,  and  actually 
made  a  pilgrimage  in  a  canal  boat  all  the  way  to  Buffalo. 
I  found  every  body  along  the  sides  of  the  canal  delight 
ed  with  the  vast  public  benefits  of  these  contrivances ; 
they  could  sell  the  product  of  their  lands,  and  th$  lands 


216 

themselves  for  twice  or  thrice  as  much  as  formerly.  1 
rubbed  my  hands  with  great  satisfaction,  and  was  more 
in  love  with  canals  than  ever.  Returning,  I  diverged 
from  the  line  of  the  canal,  into  some  of  the  more  re 
mote  counties,  and  found  all  the  people  scratching  their 
heads.  '  What  is  the  matter,  good  people  all,  of  every 
sort,  what  can  you  want  now  the  great  canal  is  finish 
ed?'  '  The  d 1  take  the  great  canal,'  cried  all  with 

one  voice  :  *  every  body  is  mad  to  go  and  settle  on  the 
canal.'  '  To  be  sure  they  are,  my  good  friends  and 
fellow  citizens,  and  that  is  the  beauty  of  a  canal ;  it 
raises  the  price  of  land  within  a  certain  distance  to 
double  what  it  was  before.'  *  Yes,  and  it  lowers  the 
price  of  land  not  within  a  certain  distance  in  an  equal  if 
not  greater  proportion;  it  is  robbing  Peter  to  pay  Paul. 
Nobody  thinks  of  coming  here  to  settle  now — they  are 
all  for  the  canal.'  O  ho,  thought  I,  then  a  canal  has  two 
sides,  as  well  as  two  ends." 

The  alderman  then  goes  on  to  speculate  on  the  diffi 
culty  of  increasing  the  actual  quantity  of  good  in  this 
world,  maintaining  that  what  is  gained  in  one  place  is 
lost  in  another  ;  that  public  improvements,  are  for  the 
most  part,  private  speculations,  and  that  the  accumula 
tion  of  wealth  in  a  particular  tract  of  country,  or  in  the 
hands  of  a  small  portion  of  a  community,  is  always  at 
the  expense  of  the  larger  portions  of  each,  and  renders 
the  one  bloated,  the  other  impotent,  which  position  he 
illustrates  by  the  following  fable. 

-  "  A  long  time  ago,  when  men  were  not  much  wiser 
than  pigs  are  now  a  days,  the  head  became  exceedingly 
dissatisfied  at  seeing  the  blood  circulating  freely  through 


all  parts  of  the  body,  even  to  the  tips  of  the  fingers,  and 
ends  of  the  toes,  without  discrimination,  and  prayed  to 
Jupiter  to  remedy  this  democratic,  levelling  economy 
of  nature.  The  gods  always  grant  foolish  prayers,  and 
accordingly  Jupiter  decreed  that  the  blood  should  no 
longer  circulate  to  the  extremities,  but  confine  itself  to 
certain  favoured  parts,  such  as  the  head,  the  heart,  the 
liver,  and  the  lungs,  which  in  a  little  time  became  so 
overcharged  and  unwieldy,  that  they  could  hardly  per 
form  their  ordinary  functions.  The  head  grew  giddy, 
the  heart  palpitated  with  oppressive  struggles,  the  liver 
expanded  into  bloated  inactivity,  and  the  lungs  puffed 
like  a  pair  of  bellows.  Meanwhile,  the  extremities 
being  deprived  of  the  principle  of  life,  thus  withdrawn 
to  pamper  the  other  parts,  gradually  shrivelled  up,  and 
lost  their  elasticity,  insomuch  that  the  hands  could  no 
longer  perform  their  functions,  or  the  legs  support  the 
overgrown  head  above  them.  *  0  Jupiter  !'  cried  the 
head,  4  restore  the  circulation  of  the  blood  to  its  former 
channels,  and  let  nature  again  have  her  way.'  '  Fool,* 
replied  Jupiter,  laughing,  '  dost  thou  think  it  as  easy  to 
restore  as  to  disturb  the  order  of  nature.  Hadst  thou 
let  her  alone,  each  limb  and  organ  of  the  frame  to  which 
thou  belongest,  would  have  equally  partaken  of  the 
principle  of  life,  and  all  would  have  grown  with  a  happy, 
harmonious  proportion,  into  healthful,  slow  and  vigorous 
manhood.  Now  it  is  too  late.  Even  the  gods  cannot 
remedy  the  consequences  of  folly,  however  they  may 
remove  its  causes.  Thou  hast  grown  prematurely, 
and  it  is  ordained  that  such  never  live  long.  The 
mushroom  of  a  night,  is  the  ruin  of  a  day.7  A  rush  of 
19 


218 

blood  to  the  brain,  brought  on  apoplexy,  and  the  decree 
of  the  gods  was  fulfilled." 

The  ride  along  the  glorious  Hudson,  from  the  Mo 
hawk  to  where  the  road  turns  westward  to  the  springs, 
presents  a  perpetual  succession  of  enchanting  scenery. 
But  by  this  time  the  inquisitive  traveller  is  doubtless 
full  of  anticipations  of  the  delights  of  these  Castalian 
fountains,  where  a  thousand  nymphs  more  beautiful,  or 
at  least  better  dressed,  than  ever  haunted  enchanted 
stream,  or  chrystal  fount  of  yore,  quaff  the  inspiring 
beverage,  till — -till  one  is  astonished  what  becomes  of  it ! 
We  will  therefore  delay  him  no  longer.  Perish  the 
beauties  of  nature  !  What  are  they  all  when  compared 
with  those  exquisite  combinations  of  art  and  nature, 
which  puzzle  the  understanding  to  decide  which  had 
the  most  to  do  in  their  production,  the  milliner  or  the 
goddess. 


BALLSTON. 

The  first  view  of  Ballston,  generally  has  the  same 
effect  upon  visiters,  that  matrimony  is  said  to  have  upon 
young  lovers.  It  is  very  extraordinary,  but  the  first 
impression  derived  from  the  opening  scene — we  mean 
of  Ballston — is  that  it  is  the  ugliest,  most  uninviting 
spot  in  the  universe.  But  this  impression  soon  wears 
away,  as  he  daily  associates  with  beautiful  damsels,  the 
lustre  of  whose  unfading,  and  ineffable  charms,  as  it 
were,  diffuses  itself  over  the  whole  face  of  nature,  con 
verting  the  muddy  swamp  into  a  green  meadow,  the 
muddy  brook  into  a  chrystal  stream  meandering  musi- 


219 

cally  along,  the  sand  hills  into  swelling,  full  bosomed 
protuberances  of  nature,  and  Sans  Souci,  into  the  palace 
of  the  fairy  Feliciana,  where,  as  every  body  knows, 
people  were  so  happy  they  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  themselves.  We  defy  any  man  to  be  surrounded 
by  beautiful  women,  even  though  it  were  in  utter  dark 
ness,  without  having  his  imagination  exclusively  satu 
rated  with  ideas  of  beauty,  let  the  surrounding  objects 
fee  what  they  may.  For  as  the  poet  has  it — 

"  The  eye  of  beauty,  like  the  glorious  sun, 
Casts  a  reflected  lustre  all  around, 
Making  deformity  itself  partake 
In  its  wide  glowing  splendours." 

The  localities  of  Ballston  and  Saratoga,  are  ennobled 
and  illustrated,  by  this  singular  influence  of  beauty; 
otherwise,  it  must  be  confessed,  if  they  depended  only 
on  their  own  intrinsic  capabilities  they  would  be  no  way 
extraordinary.  Yet,  to  do  them  justice,  they  are  not 
altogether  desperate  as  to  pretensions.  If  the  marshes 
were  only  green  meadows,  dotted  with  stately  elms ; 
the  sand  hills  richly  cultivated  with  fields  of  golden 
wheat,  and  stately  corn,  waving  its  green  ribbons  to  the 
breeze ;  the  muddy  brook  a  pastoral,  purling  river  ;  the 
pine  trees  stately  forests  of  oak  and  hickory,  and  their 
stumps  were  a  little  more  picturesque,  neither  Balls- 
ton  or  Saratoga,  need  be  ashamed  to  show  themselves 
any  day  in  the  week,  not  excepting  Sunday!  As  it  is, 
candour  itself  must  admit,  that  their  beauties  are  alto 
gether  reflected  from  the  ladies'  eyes. 

Being  now  arrived  at  the  head  quarters,  the  very  focus 


220 

and  hot  bed  of  elegance,  fashion,  and  refinement,  it  be* 
comes  us  to  be  more  particular  in  our  directions  to  the 
inexperienced  traveller,  who  peradventure  hath  never 
sojourned  at  a  watering  place.  For  this  purpose  we 
have  with  great  pains,  and  at  the  expense  of  a  vast  deal 
of  actual  observation,  collected,  digested,  and  codified  a 
system  of  rules  and  regulations,  derived  from  the  best 
sources,  and  sanctioned  by  the  example  of  people  of 
the  very  first  tournure,  as  well  as  the  most  finished  edu 
cation  :  to  wit,  brokers  of  eminence,  retired  bankrupts 
living  upon  their  means,  aspiring  apprentices,  and  dan 
dies  of  the  first  pretensions.  For  the  purpose  of  being 
more  succinct,  clear,  and  explicit,  we  have  divided  our 
code  into  chapters,  comprizing  a  complete  set  of  pre 
cepts  for  the  government  of  every  class  of  persons^ 
beginning,  however,  with  a  few  general  rules  and  stand 
ing  directions  of  universal  application. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  first  requisite  on  arriving  at  either  Ballston  or 
Saratoga,  is  to  procure  lodgings.  In  the  choice  of  a 
house,  the  traveller  will  do  well  to  consult  the  news 
papers,  to  see  if  the  landlord  has  a  proper  conception  of 
the  art  of  puffing  himself,  without  which,  we  affirm  with 
out  fear  of  contradiction,  no  man  has  any  legitimate 
claim  to  fashionable  notoriety.  A  fellow  who  has  not 
interest  to  raise  a  puff,  must  be  something  more  than  a 


221 

swindler  or  a  murderer.  We  are  aware  that  certain 
wiseacres,  with  less  money  than  even  wit,  and  less 
knowledge  of  the  world  than  a  bookworm,  have  been 
pleased  on  divers  occasions  to  ridicule  this  system  of 
puffs  and  recommendations,  as  exclusively  appertaining 
to  quackery  in  medicine.  But  let  us  tell  them  to  their 
teeth,  that  a  system  applicable  to  quack  doctors,  has 
been  found  by  actual  experience,  to  answer  just  as  well 
for  quack  lawyers,  quack  parsons,  quack  politicians, 
quack  philosophers,  quack  poets,  quack  novelists,  quack 
publicans,  and  quacks  of  all  sorts,  sizes,  dimensions, 
qualities,  appurtenances,  and  pretensions.  "  Let  them 
laugh  that  win,"  said  the  renowned  Pedagogus  who 
once  compiled  a  book  in  which  he  made  the  unparallel 
ed  and  gigantic  improvement  of  spelling  words  as  they 
are  pronounced,  instead  of  pronouncing  them  as  they 
are  spelled.  He  got  all  the  schoolmasters — we  beg 
pardon — principals  of  gymnasia,  polytechnic,  philotech- 
nic,  chirographic,  and  adelphic  academies,  to  recom 
mend  his  book,  by  selling  it  at  a  great  discount. 
Honest  Thomas  Dilworth  forthwith  hid  his  powdered 
head,  especially  when  in  addition  to  this,  upwards  of 
three  hundred  great  politicians,  who  were  ex-officio, 
scholars  and  philosophers,  recommended  the  book  as  a 
most  valuable  work,  distinctly  marking  the  progress  of 
mind,  and  the  astonishing  strides  of  the  gigantic  spirit  of 
the  age.  All  the  rational  people  then  living,  of  whom 
however  there  were  not  above  a  hundred  millions,  laugh 
ed  most  consumedly  at  the  sage  Pedagogus  and  his  cer 
tificates  ;  but  he  only  replied,  "  Let  them  laugh  that 
win."  The  sage  Pedagogus  in  the  course  of  twenty 
19* 


222 

years,  sold  upwards  of  six  million  copies  of  his  book, 
and  made  his  fortune.  Which  was  the  wiser,  the  sage 
Pedagogus  or  the  people  that  laughed  at  him? 

Therefore  it  is  we  say  again,  and  again,  repeating  it 
three  thousand  times  to  all  who  will  listen,  go  to  the 
house  that  has  the  greatest  number  of  puffs  to  its  back, 
although  it  may,  and  doubtless  does  sometimes  happen 
that  they  are  indited  by  some  honest  man  of  the  quill, 
who  has  settled  his  bill  by  bartering  his  praise  for  the 
landlord's  pudding. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OF  DRINKING  THE  WATERS. 

There  is  no  doubt  in  the  opinions  of  those  who  have 
observed  the  vast  progress  of  the  human  mind,  since  the 
discovery  of  the  new  planet  Herschell,  and  the  invention  of 
self-sharpening  pencils,  that  the  ancients  laboured  under 
the  disease  of  a  constipated  understanding.  Else  they 
Could  never  have  differed  as  they  did  about  the  summum 
bonwn,  or  great  good,  holding  at  least  three  hundred 
different  opinions,  some  of  which  were  inexpressibly 
absurd;  as  for  instance,  that  which  pointed  out  the 
practice  of  virtue  as  the  only  foundation  of  happiness. 
But  ever  since  the  discovery  of  the  new  planet,  and  the 
self-sharpening  pencil,  and  above  all,  the  invention  of 
the  chess  playing  automaton,  all  rational  animals,  from 
the  philosopher  to  the  learned  pig,  unite  in  pronouncing 


a  good  appetite,  with  the  wherewithal  to  satisfy  it,  to  be 
the  real,  and  only  summum  bonwn,  the  fountain  of  all 
our  knowledge,  as  well  as  the  source  of  all  substantial 
happiness.  How  is  it  that  the  said  pig  is  taught  the 
noble  art  of  A,  B,  C,  except  through  the  medium  of 
his  appetite  1  and  what  impels  the  animal  man  to  the 
exertion  of  his  faculties,  bodily  and  mental,  but  his  ap 
petite  ?  Necessity,  says  the  old  proverb,  is  the  mother 
of  invention  ;  and  what  is  necessity,  but  hunger  ?  The 
vital  importance  of  a  good  appetite,  cannot  be  better 
illustrated  than  by  the  following  passage  from  the  works 
of  M.  Huet,  bishop  of  Avranches,  the  most  learned  man 
of  his  age,  if  not  the  most  learned  man  of  any  age. 
"  Whenever,"  says  he,  "  I  receive  letters  late  in  the 
evening,  or  very  near  the  time  of  dining,  I  lay  them  by 
for  another  opportunity.  Letters  generally  convey 
more  bad  news  than  good ;  so  that,  on  reading  them 
either  at  night  or  at  noon,  I  am  sure  to  spoil  my  appe 
tite,  or  my  repose." 

It  is  doubtless  in  the  pursuit  of  this  summum  bonum, 
a  good  appetite,  and  the  means  of  satisfying  it,  that 
thousands  of  people  flock  to  the  springs,  from  all  quar 
ters.  It  is  for  this  they  exchange  the  delight  of  making 
money,  for  the  honour  of  spending  it ;  it  is  for  this  the 
matron  quits  the  comforts  of  her  domestic  circle,  to 
mingle  in  the  crowd  by  day,  and  sleep  at  night,  in  a 
room  six  feet  by  nine,  opening  on  a  passage  where 
the  tread  of  human  feet  is  never  intermitted,  from  sun 
set  to  sunrise — from  sunrise  to  sunset.  It  is  for  this 
the  delicate  and  sensitive  girl,  musters  her  smiles,  nur 
tures  her  roses,  and  fills  her  bandboxes.  It  is  for  this  the 


224 

snug  citizen,  who  as  he  waxes  rich,  becomes  poor  id 
appetite,  and  weak  of  digestion,  opens  his  long  accu 
mulating  hoards,  and  exchanges  the  cherished  maxims 
of  saving,  for  those  of  spending  his  money.     It  is  for  this 
the  beau  reserves  the  last  few  hundreds  that  ought  to  go 
to  the  paying  of  his  tailor,  determined  to  enjoy  the  de 
lights  of  eating,  though  the  tailor  starve,  in  spite  of  goose 
and  cabbage.     In  short,  it  is  for  this,  and  this  alone,  his 
grace  of  York,  of  blessed  memory,  allowed  to  his  cook, 
the  thrice  renowned  and  immortal  Monsieur  Ude,  twelve 
hundred  pounds  sterling  a  year,  of  the  money  that  ought 
otherwise  to  have  gone  to  the  paying  of  his  creditors, 
to  whom  his  grace  bequeathed  only  the  worst  half  of 
the  summum  bonum,  a  good  appetite,  with  nothing  to  eat. 
Next  to  a  good  appetite  for  dinner,  a  keen  relish  for 
breakfast,  constitutes  the  happiness  of  our  existence. 
In  order  to  attain  to  this  the  first  requisite  is  to  rise 
early  in  the  morning,  and  wait  a  couple  of  hours  with 
as  much  impatience  as  possible,   drinking  a  glass  of 
Congress  water  about  every  ten  minutes,  and  walking 
briskly  between  each,  till  the  walk  is  inevitably  increa 
sed  to  a  trot,  and  the  trot  to  a  gallop,  when  the  requisite 
preliminaries  of  a  good  appetite  for  breakfast  are  con 
summated.     Philosophers  and  chymists  have  never  yet 
fairly  accounted  for  this  singular  propensity  to  running, 
produced  by  the  waters,  nor  shall  we  attempt  to  solve 
the  difficulty.     It  is  sufficient  for  us  that  the  great  good 
is  attained,  in  the  acquisition  of  a  good  appetite  for 
breakfast.     And  here  we  will  stop  a  moment  to  notice  a 
ridiculous  calumny  of  certain  people,  who  we  suspect 
prefer  brandy  and  water  to  all  the  pure  waters  of  the 


225 

springs  :  to  wit,  that  it  is  the  morning  air  and  exercise 
that  produces  this  propensity  to  running,  and  the  keen 
appetite  consequent  upon  it.  The  refutation  of  this 
absurd  notion  is  found,  in  the  fact  that  the  waters  of 
Ballston  do  not  occasion  people  to  run  half  as  fast,  and 
that  consequently  they  dont  eat  half  as  much  as  they  do 
at  Saratoga.  In  truth,  it  is  worth  a  man's  while  to  go 
there  only  to  see  people  eat,  particularly  the  amatory 
philosophers,  who  maintain  that  some  young  ladies  live 
upon  air  ;  others  upon  the  odour  of  roses  ;  and  others 
upon  the  Waverley  novels. 


CHAPTER  III, 

OF  EATING. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  be  very  particular  on  this  head, 
as  the  rules  we  have  given  in  respect  to  the  deportment 
of  the  elegant  tourist,  in  steam  boats,  will  sufficiently 
apply  to  the  springs.  We  will  merely  observe  that 
great  vigilance  and  celerity  is  necessary,  in  both  places, 
inasmuch  as  the  viands  have  a  habit  of  vanishing  before 
one  can  say  Jack  Robinson.  One  special  rule,  which 
we  cannot  by  any  means  omit  mentioning,  is,  never  to 
stop  to  lose  time  in  considering  what  you  shall  eat,  or 
to  help  your  neighbours ;  if  you  do,  you  are  a  gone 
man. 

We  remember  to  have  seen  a  spruce  John  Bull,  who 


I 


226 

from  his  carrying  a  memorandum  book,  and  making 
frequent  notes,  was  no  doubt  a  forger  of  books  of  tra 
vels,  who,  the  first  morning  he  attended  breakfast  at 
Congress  Hall,  afforded  us  infinite  diversion.  He  had 
placed  his  affections  most  evidently  on  a  jolly  smoking 
steak,  that  to  say  the  honest  truth,  was  the  object  of 
our  own  secret  devoirs,  and  stood  leaning  on  the  back 
of  a  chair,  directly  opposite,  waiting  for  that  bell  which 
excels  the  music  of  the  spheres,  or  of  the  veritable 
Signorina,  in  the  ears  of  a  true  amateur.  At  the  first 
tinkling  of  this  delightful  instrument,  a  nimble  young 
fellow,  from  the  purlieus  of  the  Arcade,  with  a  body  no 
bigger  than  a  wasp,  slipped  in  between,  took  the  chair, 
and  transferred  a  large  half  of  the  steak  to  his  own 
uses.  The  Signior  John  Bull  looked  awfully  dignified, 
but  said  nothing,  and  departed  in  search  of  another 
Steak,  in  a  paroxysm  of  hunger.  He  had  swallowed 
eight  tumblers  of  Congress  that  morning.  In  the 
meanwhile  he  had  lost  the  chance  of  getting  any  seat 
at  all,  until  he  was  accommodated  at  a  side  table, 
where  we  detected  him  making  several  notes  in  his 
memorandum  book,  which,  without  doubt,  bore  hard 
upon  the  Yankees.  It  is  astonishing  how  much  the 
tone  of  a  traveller's  book  depends  upon  the  tone  of  his 
stomach.  We  once  travelled  in  Italy  with  an  English 
book  maker  by  trade,  who  occasionally  read  portions  of 
his  lucubrations  to  us,  and  we  always  had  occasion  to 
notice  this  singular  connexion  of  the  brain  and  the  sto 
mach.  If  he  got  a  good  breakfast,  he  let  the  Italians 
off  quite  easy ;  if  his  dinner  was  satisfactory,  he  grum- 
Med  out  a  little  praise ;  but  if  he  got  a  good  supper  and 


227 

bed,  he  would  actually  overflow  in  a  downright  eulo« 
gium.  But  wo  to  Italy  if  his  breakfast  was  scanty— 
his  dinner  indifferent — his  supper  wanting — and  his 
bed  peopled  with  fleas.  Ye  powers  !  how  he  cut  and 
slashed  away !  The  country  was  naught — the  men  all 
thieves  and  beggars — the  women  no  better  than  they 
should  be — the  morals  good  fo*  nothing — the  religion 
still  worse — the  monks  a  set  of  lazy  dogs — and  the 
pope  was  sure  to  be  classed  with  his  old  playmate,  the 

d 1 !     Of  so  much  consequence  is  a  good  dinner  to 

the  reputation  of  nations.  It  behooves,  therefore,  all 
tavern  keepers  to  bear  in  mind,  that  they  have  in  trust 
the  honour  of  their  country,  and  that  they  be  careful  to 
Stuff  all  travellers  by  profession,  and  all  professors  of 
the  noble  art  of  puffing,  with  the  good  things  of  their 
larders — to  station  a  servant  behind  the  back  of  each 
of  their  chairs,  with  special  orders  to  be  particularly  at 
tentive — and  to  give  them  the  best  beds  in  the  house. 
So  shall  their  country  flourish  in  immortal  books  of  tra 
vels  and  diurnals,  and  taverns  multiply  and  prosper 
evermore.  There  is  no  place  in  the  world  where  this 
rule  of  feeding  people  into  good  humour  is  more  infalli 
ble  than  at  the  springs,  where  the  appetite  becomes  so 
gloriously  teasing  and  imperative,  that  it  is  credibly  re 
ported  in  the  annals  of  the  bon  ton,  that  a  delicate 
young  lady  did  once  eat  up  her  beau,  in  a  rural  walk 
before  breakfast.  Certain  it  is,  the  unfortunate  young 
gentleman  was  never  heard  of,  and  his  bills  at  Congress 
Hall,  and  at  the  tailors,  remain  unpaid  even  unto  this 
day. 


228 

The  reader  will  please  to  have  a  little  patience  here, 
while  we  stop  to  take  a  pinch  of  snuff  before  we  com 
mence  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


! 


OF   FASHIONABLE  TOURNURE,  AND  THE   BEHAVIOUR  BE 
COMING  IN  THE  YOUNG  LADIES  AT  THE  SPRINGS. 

1.  Young  ladies  should  never  flirt  very  violently,  ex 
cept  with  married  men,  or  those  engaged  to  be  married, 
because  nobody  will  suspect  they  mean  any  harm  in 
these  cases,  and  besides,  the  pleasure  will  be  enhanced 
by  making  their  wives  and  mistresses  tolerably  unhap 
py.     Pleasure,  without  giving  pain  to  somebody,  is  not 
worth  enjoying. 

2.  Young  ladies  sh*ould  take  special  care  of  their 
bishops.     The  loss  of  a  bishop  is  dangerous  in  other 
games  besides  chess. 

3.  Young  ladies  should  take  every  occasion  to  in 
dulge  to  excess  in  drinking — we  mean  the  waters — be 
cause  it  is  good  for  their  complexions. 

4.  Young  ladies  should  always  sit  down,  whenever 
they  are  tired  of  dancing,  whether  other  ladies  in  the 
set  have  had  their  turn  or  not ;  and  they  should  never 
sit  down  till  they  are  tired,  under  the  vulgar  idea  of 
giving  those  a  chance  of  dancing  who  have  had  none 
before.     It  is  the  very  height  of  tournure  to  pay  not  the 


229 

least  attention  to  the  feelings  of  other  people — except 
indeed  they  are  of  the  first  fashion. 

5.  If  a  young  lady  dont  like  the  people  standing  op 
posite  to  her  in  the  dance,  she  ought  to  quit  her  place 
and  seek  another,  taking  care  to  give  the  said  people 
such  a  look,  as  will  explain  her  motive. 

6.  Young  ladies  should  be  careful  to  remember  on  all 
occasions,  that  according  to  the  most  fashionable  deci 
sions,  it  is  the  height  of  good  breeding  to  be  ill  bred, 
and  that  what  used  to  be  called  politeness,  is  consider 
ed  by  the  best  society  as  great  a  bore  as  the  tunnel  un 
der  the  Thames. 

7.  Young  ladies  should  never  forget  that  blushing  is 
a  sign  of  guilt. 

8.  Young  ladies,  and  indeed  old  ladies  too,  must  al 
ways  bear  in  mind,  that  fine  feathers  make  fine  birds  ; 

i  and  that  the  more  feathers  they  wear,  the  more  they  ap 
proximate  to  high  ton.  It  is  of  no  sort  of  conse- 
i  quence,  according  to  the  present  mode,  whether  the 
I  dress  is  proper  for  the  occasion  or  not.  A  walking 
dress  ought  to  be  as  fine  as  one  for  an  assembly,  for 
the  peacock  spreads  his  tail  equally  on  the  top  of  a  hen 
roost,  as  on  the  gate  of  a  palace.  The  infallible  rule 
for  dressing  is,  to  get  as  much  finery,  and  as  many  co 
lours,  as  possible,  and  put  them  all  on  at  once.  It 
looks  like  economy  to  wear  only  a  few  ornaments  at  a 
time,  and  of  all  things  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  nothing 
is  so  low,  vulgar,  and  bourgeois,  as  economy.  No 
lady  who  utters  the  word,  .even  in  her  sleep,  can  ever 
aspire  to  tournure.  We  knew  an  unfortunate  damsel, 
who  ruined  herself  for  ever  in  good  society,  by  being 
20 


230 

overheard  to  say,  she  could  not  afford  to  buy  a  Cash 
mere.  She  was  unanimously  left  out  of  the  circle 
thenceforth  and  forevermore. 

9.  In  going  into  a  ball  or  supper  room  where  there  is 
a  great  crowd,  young  ladies  should  not  wait  the  motions 
of  the  married  ones,  'but  push  forward  as  vigorously  as 
possible  in  order  to  get  a  good  place,  and  not  mind  a 
little  squeezing — it  makes  them  look  rosy.     Nothing 
on  the  face  of  the  globe  is  so  mortifying,  as  to  be  obli 
ged  to  take  up  with  an  out  of  the  way  seat  at  a  supper 
table,  or  the  lower  end  of  the  room  in  a  cotillion.     We 
have  known  ladies  go  into  a  decline  in  consequence. 

10.  Young  ladies  should  always  say  they  are  enga 
ged,  when  asked  to  dance  by  a  person  they  dont  choose 
to  dance  with.     It  is  a  pious  fraud  justified  by  the 
emergency  of  the  case. 

11.  In  walking  up  and  down  the  public  drawing 
room,  it  is  always  fashionable  to  keep  up  a  bold  front. 
For  this  purpose  it  is   advisable  for  five  or  six  young 
ladies  to  link  arm  in  arm,  and  sweep  the  whole  room. 
If  any  body  comes  in  the  way,  elbow  them  out  without 
ceremony,  and  laugh  as  loud  as  possible  to  show  it  is 
all  a  joke. 

12.  Young  ladies  should  be  sure  to  laugh  loud,  and 
talk  loud  in  public,  especially  when  they  say  an  ill  na- 
tured  thing  about  somebody  within  hearing,  whom  no 
body  knows.     Such  people  have  no  business  at  the 
springs.     Epsom  salts  is  good  enough  for  them.     If 
they  must  have  Congress  water,  let  them  go  to  Lynch 
&  Clark's,  and  not  bore  good  society. 

13.  Young  ladies  should  dress  as  often,  and  in  as 


231 

great  a  variety  as  possible.  Besides  passing  away  thfc 
time,  it  sometimes  achieves  wonders.  We  have  known 
an  obstinate  undecided,  undetermined  hesitating,  vacil 
lating,  prevaricating  beau,  who  had  resisted  all  the 
colours  of  the  rainbow,  at  last  brought  to  the  ground, 
by  a  philosophical,  analytical,  and  antithetical  disposi 
tion  of  pink,  yellow,  green,  white,  black,  blue,  fawn, 
Maria  Louise,  bronze,  and  brass  coloured  silks  and 
ribbons,  that  proved  irresistible.  As  some  fish  are 
only  to  be  caught  by  particular  baits,  at  certain  seasons, 
so  some  men  are  caught  by  particular  colours.  We 
ourselves  could  never  resist  a  flesh  coloured  gauze, 
and  silken  hose  of  the  same.  Young  ladies  had  much 
better  study  the  nature  of  these  affinities,  instead  oi' 
going  to  hear  lectures  on  political  economy,  chymistry? 
and  anatomical  dissfictions.  The  only  part  of  a  mau 
they  have  any  concern  with  is  the  heart.  Women  are 
like  bees — because .  We  will  give  a  ball  and  sup 
per  to  the  fortunate  person,  who  shall  solve  this  conun 
drum,  Why  are  women  like  bees  ? 

14.  Next  to  dress,  which  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  first 
object  of  a  lady's  care,  is  the  management  of  the  per 
son,  for  which  the  following  directions  will  be  found 
highly  useful.  The  first  requisite  to  be  graceful,  is  a 
total  departure  from  nature.  What  is  the  use  of  being 
fought,  if  ladies  do  not  exhibit  the  effects  of  teaching, 
the  whole  object  of  which  is  to  counteract  the  natural 
vulgarity  of  nature  1  If  nature  gave  them  a  grave  or 
pensive  disposition,  they  must  try  and  counteract  it  by 
perpetual  laughing.  If  she  bestowed  on  them  a  playful, 
animated  mind,  the  whole  object  of  attention  should  be 


232 

to  appear  sad,  sorrowful,  sentimental  and  sleepy.  If 
she  gave  them  a  light,  airy,  elastic  step,  all  they  have 
to  do  is  to  creep  softly  along,  with  downcast  look,  and 
silent,  solemn  inactivity.  If  on  the  contrary,  she 
vouchsafed  them  an  outline  like  a  dumpling,  it  is  proper 
and  indispensable  to  dance,  bounce,  skip  and  curvet, 
like  an  India  rubber  ball.  In  short,  nature  must  be 
counteracted  in  some  way  or  other,  and  there  is  an  end 
of  it.  Without  a  little  caprice,  a  little  affectation,  and 
a  great  deal  of  fashionable  nonsense,  a  young  lady  is 
intolerable.  Talk  of  nature,  and  sincerity,  and  single 
ness  of  heart !  A  natural  woman  is  no  more  fit  for  use 
than  a  raw  calf's  head.  She  must  be  worked  up  with 
the  spices  of  fashion,  or  a  refined  man  who  has  travelled, 
will  pvnnnnnr.e  her  entirely  destitute  of  tournure. 

15.  The  first  requisite  for  a  young  lady,  in  walking, 
riding,  sitting,  lolling,  or  dancing,  is  that  she  should  do 
it  according  to  the  fashion,  whether  it  is  set  by  an  opera 
dancer,  or  a  person  of  high  ton,  who  wishes  to  disguise 
a  deformity,  and  who  does  as  she  does,  because  she 
cant  do  any  better.  If  the  said  opera  dancer,  from  the 
mere  force  of  habit,  strides  along,  and  lifts  up  her  feet, 
half  a  yard  high,  the  young  ladies  must  do  the  same.  If 
the  aforesaid  person  of  rank,  walks  with  a  wriggle,  a 
jerk,  a  stoop,  or  a  lean  on  one  side,  or  fiddles  along  with 
the  elbows  and  hips,  without  the  aid  of  any  other  exer 
tions  ;  if  she  does  all  this,  because  from  some  physical 
incapacity  she  cannot  do  otherwise,  still  the  young 
ladies,  by  the  laws  of  fashion,  must  do  the  same,  and 
creep,  or  wriggle,  or  jerk,  or  stoop,  or  walk  cramp- 
sided,  or  fiddle  along  with  elbows  and  hips,  as  the  law 


233 

directs.  Whatever  is  fashionable  is  graceful,  beautiful, 
proper  and  genteel,  let  the  grumbling  and  vulgar  mob, 
who  affect  to  follow  nature,  say  what  they  will.  In 
short,  it  is  now  a  well  established  axiom,  that  the  whole 
tenour  of  a  fashionable  education  ought  to  be  to  defeat 
the  vulgar  propensities  implanted  by  nature.  To  direct, 
controul,  or  what  is  still  more  ridiculous,  to  facilitate 
the  expansion  of  natural  beauties,  qualities,  or  propensi 
ties,  is,  to  use  a  fashionable  phrase  just  come  out  at 
Aimack's,  "  All  in  my  eye,  and  Betty  Martin."  It  is 
only  the  poets  who  make  such  a  rout'  about  following 
nature,  and  the  sincerity  of  their  declarations  may  be 
tested  by  the  antithesis  of  their  precepts,  and  their  ex 
ample.  Some  one  of  these  ranting,  rhyming  cavillers, 
who  is  ashamed  of  his  name,  sometime  ago  bored  the 
English  world  with  the  following  philippic  against  this 
imitative  quality,  which  is  the  distinguishing  charac 
teristic  of  people  of  fashion,  who  on  reading  it,  will  no 
doubt  smile  at  the  vulgar  indignation  of  this  Parvenue. 
It  is  extracted  with  an  alteration  or  two,  to  suit  present 
purposes,  from  an  obscure  poem,  not  long  since  publish 
ed  in  London,  the  name  of  which,  if  we  remember  right* 
was  "  May  Fair." 

"The  thinking  mind,  this  miracle  must  strike, 
Scanning  the  moderns,  that  they're  all  alike  : 
True  character  is  merged,  for  every  soul, 
Runs  the  same  gauntlet,  gains  the  selfsame  goal. 
In  the  world's  jostle  is  the  die  worn  out, 
As  from  the  coins  we  carry  long  about. 
They're  all  the  same  without,  the  same  withjj^ 
Alike  in  dullness,  and  alike  in  sin  j 
20* 


234 

All  in  one  way  they  sit,  ride,  walk  or  stand, 

Speak  with  one  voice,  nay,  learn  to  write  one  hanti 

Drest  to  the  mode,  our  very  nurseries  show, 

The  baby  lady,  and  the  infant  beau : 

In  rival  lustre,  maid  and  mistress  meet, 

And  elbow  one  another  in  the  Btreet. 

As  much  like  nature  are  the  things  we  see, 

As  yon  dipt,  dusty  pole  is  like  a  tree, 

Green,  waving,  glorious,  beautiful  and  free.'- 

Did  ever  mortal  read  such  low  stuff!  It  is  almost  as 
vulgar  and  old  fashioned  as  Juvenal.  But  this  is  not 
the  worst.  Hear  the  villain  ! 

"  Our  women  too,  no  varied  medium  keep, 
Like  storms  they  riot,  or  like  ditches  sleep. 
Pale,  cold,  and  languid,  wrapt  in  sullen  state, 
Or  flush'd,  warm,  eager,  full  of  learned  prate, 
Blue  bottle  flies,  they  buzz  about  and  shine, 
Cramming  ten  learned  words  in  one  long  line. 
These  haunt  the  galleries  of  the  learn'd  antique, 
(Who  cares  for  naked  figures — they' re  but  Greek  !) 
And  knowing  man's  no  longer  to  be  found, 
Except  in  monkey  shape,  above  the  ground, 
Tend  anatomic  lectures,  there  to  see 
Not  what  he  is,  but  what  he  ought  to  be ; 
Display  their  forms  in  the  gymnastic  class, 
And  get  ethereally  drunk  with  gas." 

We  have  given  these  extracts  to  show  our  fashiona 
ble  readers — and  we  despise  all  others — what  human 
nature  in  the  form  of  a  poet  is  capable  of,  as  well  as  to 
laugh  at  his  presumption  in  finding  fault  with  what  con 
stitutes  the  charm  of  fashion — its  uniformity.  By  its 
*nagic  influence  on  dress  and  demeanour,  it  reduces 


235 

grace  and  deformity,  beauty  and  ugliness,  youth  and 
age,  activity  and  decrepitude,  talent  and  stupidity,  to  a 
perfect  level.  All  are  alike—all  look  alike,  act  alike, 
talk  alike,  feel  alike,  think  alike,  and  constitute  as  it 
were  one  universal  identity.  "  Can  any  mortal  mix 
ture  of  earth's  mould"  compare  with  a  fashionable  lady 
of  the  winter  of  1828,  except  her  fashionable  cook  01 
chambermaid?  Were  not  the  latter,  like  Achilles,  a 
little  vulnerable  about  the  heel  and  ancle,  this  beautiful 
symmetry  of  the  whole  sex  would  be  complete.  But 
perfection  is  not  to  be  looked  for  in  this  world — not 
even  in  the  world  of  fashion. 

Next  to  the  arts  of  dress  and  behaviour,  the  most 
important  thing  to  be  studied,  is  the  system  of  gradu 
ating  the  thermometer  of  attention  to  the  claims  of  the 
beaux.  This  is  a  matter  of  no  small  difficulty,  and  re 
quires  great  tact,  as  the  reviewers  say.  The  following 
general  rules  will  be  found  useful,  but  long  experience, 
or  frequent  parental  admonition,  can  alone  perfect  this 
indispensable  accomplishment. 

First.  Always  proportion  your  attentions  to  the 
claims  of  the  gentleman  who  aspire  to  them.  These 
claims  are  of  great  variety.  One  man  may  claim  con 
sideration  from  the  tying  of  his  neckcloth — another 
from  the  cut  of  his  coat — another  from  his  accomplish 
ments,  such  as  fiddling,  dancing,  talking  English 
French,  or  French  English,  or  writing  sleepy  verses. 
Others  come  forward  with  the  appendage  of  a  gig  and 
tandem,  or  a  curricle* — others  with  that  of  a  full  purse, 
or  great  expectatitms^ancl  others  preposterously  ex- 


236 

pect  consideration  from  the  qualities  of  their  heads  and 
hearts.  These  last  deserve  no  mercy.  The  following 
list  is  carefully  graduated  according  to  the  latest  disco 
veries  in  the  great  science  of  bon  ton. 

Number  one  of  the  class  of  beaux,  entitled  to  the 
first  consideration,  consists  of  the  thrice  blessed  who 
are  accommodated  with  full  purses.  These  constitute 
the  first  born  of  Egypt ;  they  are  the  favourite  offspring 
of  fortune,  and  carry  with  them  a  substitute  for  wit, 
valour,  and  virtue  in  their  pockets.  They  are  entitled 
to  the  first  fruits  of  every  prudent,  well  educated  young 
lady.  Yet  it  is  not  actually  incumbent  on  a  young  lady 
to  fall  in  love  with  them  at  first  sight.  If  the  fortunate* 
gentleman  is  worth  fifty  thousand,  he  is  only  entitled  to 
a  gentle  preference,  a  look  and  a  smile  occasionally. 
If  he  is  the  meritorious  possessor  of  a  hundred  thou 
sand,  the  preference  must  be  demonstrated  by  double 
the  number  of  looks  and  smiles.  Two  hundred  thou 
sand  merit  a  downright  penchant ;  three  hundred  thou 
sand  justifies  the  lady  in  being  very  unhappy  ;  and  half 
a  million  secures  her  pardon  if  she  dies  for  love.  N.  B. 
If  it  comes  to  this  extremity,  the  mother  is  justified  in 
charging  the  half  a  million  with  practising  upon  the 
young  lady's  affections,  and  insisting  on  his  marrying 
her. 

Secondly.  The  next  class  of  pretenders  are,  the 
gentlemen  who  gain  young  ladies  as  the  champions  at 
the  Olympic  games  gained  their  triumphs,  by  virtue  of 
their  horses.  A  single  horse  goes  for  little  or  nothing  ; 
a  gig  and  mounted  servant  is  something,  and  the  owner 
somebody;  a  tandem  and  servant  makes  a  distingue ; 


237 

and  the  fortunate  proprietor  of  a  phaeton  and  four  may 
fairly  enter  the  list  with  ahy  man,  except  the  half  a  mil 
lion,  or  the  second  cousin  of  an  English  lord. 

Thirdly.  There  is  a  class  of  beaux,  who  justly 
claim  considerable  consideration  on  the  score  of  their 
costume.  Dress  being  that  which  above  all  things  dis 
tinguishes  the  man  from  the  brute,  it  follows  of  course 
that  the  best  dressed  man  is  the  first  man  in  the  crea 
tion.  Accordingly,  the  more  accurate  modern  philo 
sophers  have  reversed  the  definition  of  man  given  by 
Plato,  to  wit :  "  A  two  legged  animal  without  fea 
thers" — and  substituted  one  much  more  applicable  to 
his  present  state.  They  define  him  as,  "  An  animal 
without  legs,  but  with  abundance  of  pantaloons — 
stitched,  pressed,  corsetted — composition — regent's 
cloth—maker— ScofieW,  Phelps,  &  Howard,"  Well 
dressed  young  men  are  therefore  entitled  to  great  con 
sideration,  and  if  not  of  the  first  rank,  assuredly  claim 
to  come  in  immediately  after  the  cavaliers  and  theii 
horses,  provided  always  they  can  show  a  receipt  from 
the  tailor. 

Fourthly.  Prize  poets,  players  on  the  piano,  anni 
versary  orators,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  belong  to  the 
class  of  minor  distingues,  and  are  entitled  to  the  no 
tice  of  a  fashionable  young  lady ;  for  all  fashionable 
young  ladies  ought  to  wear  at  least  one  blue  stocking. 
They  will  answer,  however,  only  for  beaux  in  public 
and  en  passant,  unless  they  possess  the  sine  qua  non  of 
a  husband.  Never  fall  in  love  with  them  as  you  value 
a  coach,  a  Cashmere  shawl,  a  soiree,  or  a  three  story 
house,  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces. 


238 

If  indeed  the  poet  could  build  four  story  fire  proof 
brick  stores,  or  brokers'  offices  in  Wall  Street,  as 
easily  as  he  doe?  castles  in  the  air,  or  the  chymist 
transmute  lead  into  gold — or  the  piano  hero  erect 
walls  by  the  magic  of  fingers,  like  Orpheus — or  the  an 
niversary  orator  coin  bank  notes  as  he  does  words — 
then  indeed  they  might  be  worthy  the  homage  of  the 
ladies'  eyes  and  hearts  ; — but  as  it  is,  they  will  do  well 
enough  to  swell  her  train. 

Fifthly.  But  really  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  no 
tice  such  a  miserable,  obscure  set  of  beings,  who  seem 
born  for  nothing  else  but  to  be  useful.  We  mean  the 
men  who  claim  the  attention  of  young  ladies,  on  the 
score  of  merit,  and  an  amiable  disposition ;  who  are 
not  worth  a  plum — who  drive  no  horses — derive  then 
being  from  no  tailors — and  who  can  neither  write  prize 
poetry,  turn  lead  into  gold,  fiddle  sonatos,  nor  spout  an 
niversaries.  We  should  like  to  know  what  such  peo 
ple  were  made  for.  Fortunately,  however,  there  are 
now  but  few  such  nonentities  ;  for  it  is  not  the  fault  of 
dictionaries,  catechisms,  and  compendiums,  if  every 
man,  woman,  and  child  cannot  know  or  do  something 
to  make  them  distingue.  If  they  can  do  nothing  else, 
they  can  write  poetry,  that  shall  be  excellent  rhyme, 
however  it  may  lack  reason.  Of  the  few  nonentities, 
of  whom  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  them  is,  that  they 
aspire  to  be  respectable — a  word  not  to  be  found  in  the 
catalogue  of  the  distingue — still  fewer  are  to  be  met  at 
the  springs,  where  neither  the  air  or  waters  agree  with 
them.  They  will  much  more  likely  be  found  attending 
to  their  paltry  business,  storing  their  minds  with  the 


239 

lumber  of  antiquated  knowledge,  or  enjoying  the  sleep) 
sodorific^  of  a  domestic  fire  side — from  which  good 
Lord  deliver  us  !  If  by  any  rare  chance,  one  of  these 
singular  monsters  should  appear  at  the  springs,  and 
peradventure  make  a  demonstration  'towards  a  young 
lady  aspiring  to  tournure,  we  would  advise  her  to 
laugh  him  to  death  at  once.  Such  men  form  a  sort  of 
icy  atmosphere  about  a  woman,  in  which  dandies  die, 
and  dandizettes  feel  irresistibly  impelled  into  the  vulgar 
ranks  of  nature  and  propriety. 


CHAPTER  V. 


ON  THE   BEHAVIOUR  PROPER  FOR  MARRIED   LADIES  AT 
THE  SPRINGS. 

1.  A  well  bred  wife  should  never  take  her  husband 
to  the  springs  unless  she  is  afraid  to  leave  him  behind. 
If  he  is  a  stupid,  plodding  blockhead,  he  had  better  stay 
at  home  to  make  money  while  his  wife  is  spending  it. 
But  if  on  the  contrary,  he  is  a  little  gay,  gallant  and 
frisky,  she  had  better  bring  him  with  her,  that  she  may 
have  him  under  her  eye,  and  justify  her  own  little  flirta 
tions  by  his  example. 

2.  In  case  they  come  together  to  the  springs,  they 
should  never  be  seen  together  while  there,  as  it  is  con 
sidered  indecent. 

3.  Married  women  should    always  single  out  old 


I 


240 

bachelors,  whose  whole  business  is  to  attend  upon  pretty 
women  as  moth  fly  about  candles,  not  to  light  a  flame, 
but  to  be  consumed  in  one.  Or  in  default  of  these, 
they  should  select  young  dandies,  who  lack  a  little 
fashionable  impudence,  if  such  can  be  found;  or  in  the 
last  resort,  the  husbands  of  other  ladies,  who  devote  all 
their  attention,  as  in  duty  bound,  to  the  wives  of  other 
men.  A  married  woman  detected  walking  arm  in  arm 
with  her  own  lawfully  begotten  husband,  might  better 
commit  &  faux  pas  at  once — her  reputation  is  irretrieva 
bly  gone. 

4.  Never  take   children  with  you  to  the   springs. 
Leave  them  to  the  care  of  old  nurse,  at  home,  under  the 
superintendence    of   Providence.     They   are    perfect 
bores  ;  and  besides,  even  the  most  gallant  Lothario, 
will  hardly  have  a  face  to  make  love  to  a  woman  sur 
rounded  by  her  children. 

5.  Married  ladies  should  never  sit  next  their  hus 
bands  at  meals,  as  it  might  give  rise  to  a  suspicion  that 
they  could  not  get  any  body  else  to  sit  by  them.     Be 
sides,  the  presence  of  a  husband  is  sometimes  a  disa 
greeable  restraint  on  the  bachelor  beaux,   and  spoils 
many  a  gallant  speech. 

6.  Married  ladies  with  grown  up  daughters,  had  bet 
ter  pass  for  their  step  mothers,  if  possible ;  but  if  this  is 
not  possible,  they  should  take  every  opportunity  to  ob 
serve,  that  they  were  very  young  when  they  married. 

7.  Married  ladies  should  forget  they  are  married  as 
much  as  possible.     The  idea  of  a  husband  coming 
across  the  mind  is  apt  to  occasion  low  spirits,  and  put 
an  awkward  restraint  on  the  behaviour.     It  is  said  of 


241 

the  planters  of  Louisiana,  that  if  you  only  mention  the 
word  cocoa  in  their  hearing,  they  immediately  grow 
melancholy,  and  lose  their  spirits.  In  like  manner  we 
have  often  seen  the  most  vivacious  gambols  of  a  wife, 
checked  and  spoiled  by  merely  pronouncing  the  name 
of  her  husband  in  a  whisper. 

8.  Neither  husband  or  wife  ought  to  say  an  ill  na- 
tured  thing  to  each  other  in  public,  without  prefacing  it 
with  my  dear  Mr.  and  my  dear  Mrs.     In  private  it  is 
no  matter. 

9.  They  should  be  particularly  careful  not  to  throw 
any  thing  at  each  other's  heads  at  meal  times  ;  it  is  al 
most  as  bad  as  to  be  seen  kissing  in  public.     This 
accident  however  cannot  occur,  if  due  regard  be  paid 
to  the  first  and  second  rules. 

10.  The  first  object  of  a  married  lady  at  the  springs, 
is  or  ought  to  be,  to  be   talked  about.     Whether  it  be 
for  any  thing  commendable  or  praiseworthy,  is  a  matter 
of  not  the  least  consequence.     This  sine  qua  non,  may 
be  attained  in  various  ways.     By  eccentricity  in  be 
haviour  or  dress  ;  by  making  a  fool  of  herself,  in  at 
tempting  to  pass  for  a  young  woman  ;  or  by  drinking 
such  enormous  quantities  of  the  water,  that  people  per 
plex  themselves  to  death  in  knowing  what  becomes  of 
it  all.     The  best  and  most  infallible  mode,  however,  of 
attaining  to  the  greatest  of  all  possible  pleasures,  that  of 
notoriety,  is  to  encourage  the  attentions  of  some  gay 
coxcomb,  till  all  the  world  begins  to  talk  about  nothing 
else.     This  is  the  true  eclat,  without  which  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  take  the  trouble  of  breathing  in  this 
world. 

21 


.242 

11.  Mothers  should  never  take  grown  up  daughters 
to  the  springs  ;  it  makes  them  look  so  old. 

12.  There  is  however  one  exception  to  the  foregoing 
rule  :  namely,  when  they  wish  to  settle  a  young  lady  in 
life.     In  that  case,  they  ought  to  be  careful  of  seven 
things,  to  wit, 

To  make  them  leave  their  hearts  at  home,  lest  they 
should  give  them  away  to  young  squires,  who  cant  pay 
value  received. 

To  make  them  leave  their  feminine  timidity,  miscall 
ed  modesty,  at  home ;  otherwise,  they  may  not  have 
the  face  to  make  what  is  called  at  Almack's,  "  a  dead 
set"  at  the  proper  object. 

To  be  sure  to  tell  every  body  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  not  more  than  twenty  times  a  day,  how  fond 
Miss  Angelina,  or  Miss  Adeline  is  of  retirement,  and 
how  backward  in  showing  off  her  accomplishments  in 
public. 

To  ascertain  the  weight  of  a  young  gentleman's 
purse,  or  at  least  that  of  his  papa,  before  the  young 
lady's  heart  is  in  danger.  This  is  sometimes  rather  a 
difficult  matter,  as  it  is  not  uncommon  now  a  days,  for 
gentlemen  to  make  a  vast  figure  with  other  people's 
money.  A  copy  of  the  will  of  the  old  gentleman  is  the 
best  security  for  a  matrimonial  speculation.  But  even 
this  is  not  infallible,  for  we  ourselves  once  had  a  large 
landed  estate  left  us,  by  an  old  bachelor  who  had  feasted 
in  our  house  for  twenty  years,  which  turned  out  to  be 
long  to  another  person. 

Never  to  lose  an  opportunity  while  condescending  to 
accept  the  arm  of  the  selected  Adonis,  in  a  promenade 


243 

around  the  drawing  or  dancing  room,  to  repeat  all  the 
flattering  things  the  young  lady  has  not  said  in  his  praise. 
Where  one  man,  aye,  or  one  woman,  is  taken  by  the 
heart,  a  thousand  are  taken  by  this  bait.  We  speak 
from  long  experience,  having  never  yet  been  able  to 
resist  any  woman  who  admired  us,  even  though  she 
might  not  have  been  handsome  enough  to  make  a  song 
about. 

If  the  mother  of  a  young  lady  at  the  springs,  has  a 
hard  character  to  deal  with  in  her  daughter,  that  is,  one 
who  cherishes  certain  pernicious  and  disobedient  no 
tions  about  loving,  respecting,  or  most  of  all,  obeying  a 
husband,  and  prefers  love  to  money,  we  know  of  no 
more  infallible  way  of  curing  this  romantic  folly,  than  to 
point  out  to  her  notice,  as  many  couple  as  fall  under 
observation,  as  possible,  who  have  made  love  matches. 
Ten  to  one  but  the  contemplation  of  these  will  satisfy 
the  young  lady,  that  money  wears  better  than  love. 

Lastly,  to  consider  merit,  talents,  amiability,  and  an 
attractive  person  and  manner,  as  dust  in  the  balance, 
worse  than  a  woollen  stocking -on  a  handsome  leg, 
when  put  in  comparison  with  money.  Money  not  only 
makes  the  mare  go,  but  sets  the  horses  to  the  coach, 
and  what  is  the  climax  of  human  bliss,  secures  the  first 
choice  from  a  consignment  of  cast  off  bonnets  of  a 
female  opera  dancer,  to  the  happy  lady  who  dont  mind 
how  much  she  pays  for  it. 


244 


CHAPTER  VI. 

% 

OF  MARRIED  MEN,  AND  THE  BEHAVIOUR  PROPER  FOR 
THEM  AT  THE  SPRINGS. 

1.  A  married  gentleman  must  never  take  an  ugly  wife 
to  the  springs,  lest  he  should  have  to  wait  upon  her 
himself;  nor  a  handsome  one,  lest  she  should  be  too 
much  waited  on  by  others.     But  if,  as  we  are  informed 
is  sometimes  the  case,  the  lady's  health  absolutely  re 
quires  it,  and  there  is  no  help,  the  laws  of  fashion  pe 
remptorily  prescribe  to  the  husband  a  total  oblivion  of 
his  wife,  in  all  public  places,  where  she  must  be  left  to 
the  exercise   of  her   own  powers  of  attraction  upon 
other  men,  for  obtaining  the  attentions  necessary  to  her 
comfort  and  happiness.     If  she  is  handsome,  she  will 
be  sure  of  these ;  if  she  is  easy  of  access,  and  free 
from  all  vulgar  airs  of  prudery,  she  will  stand  a  fair 
chance  of  coming  in  for  a  due  share  ;  if  she  is  neither 
one  or  the  other,  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  her — she 
must  fain  take  up  with  some  forlorn  bachelor  in  his 
grand  climacteric. 

2.  Married  gentlemen  would  do  well  to  keep  their 
marriage  secret  as  long  as  possible,  were  it  not  for  the 
great  advantage  it  gives  them  in  flirting  with  the  young 
ladies. 

3.  Married  gentlemen  should  be   particular  in  re 
serving  all  their  good  humour  and  spirits  for  public 
use.     As  to  their  private  deportment,  that  is  of  no  con 
sequence,  provided  they  have  a  discreet  wife,  who  is 


245 

content  to  be  a  little  miserable,  provided  every  body 
thinks  her  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world. 

4.  Married  men  should  never  forget,  that  it  is  better 
to  be  blamed  for  neglect  and  unkindness  to  their  wives, 
than  to  be  quizzed  for  their  attentions  to  them.  It  is 
better  to  rob  a  church,  than  to  be  laughed  at  by  people 
of  fashion.  We  have  known  several  persons  of  great 
sensibility  who  actually  died  of  it. 

1 5.  It  has  been  asserted  by  certain  cynics  and  block 
heads,  that  old  married  men  who  live  in  the  country,  and 
who  have  young,  gay  and  handsome  wives,  had  better 
take  them  to  Niagara,  Montreal,  Quebec,  or — home,  than 
to  the  springs.  Ballston  and  Saratoga,  say  they,  are 
great  places  for  scandal,  and  it  is  not  absolutely  out  of 
nature,  for  a  lady  to  gain  her  health  and  lose  her  repu 
tation,  at  one  or  other  of  these  places.  We  hold  these 
cautions  in  utter  and  prodigious  contempt,  maintaining 
in  the  very  teeth  of  such  heteroxy  in  fashion,  that  an 
elderly  gentleman,  with  a  young,  gay,  frisky,  handsome 
wife,  cannot  do  half  so  well  as  to  take  her  every  sea 
son  to  the  springs.  There  she  will  be  in  her  proper 
sphere — admired,  followed,  and  caressed :  and  there, 
if  there  be  any  virtue  in  the  waters,  she  wfll  be  in  a 
good  humour  with  her  husband,  if  it  be  only  to  repay 
him  for  the  admiration  of  other  men.  There,  if  any 
where  in  the  world,  he  will  enjoy  domestic  felicity,  and 
taste  of  that  peace  which  surpasseth  the  understanding 
of  all  vulgar  husbands.  He  ought  to  go  as  early,  and 
stay  as  long,  as  there  is  a  sufficiency  of  admirers  to 
keep  his  wife  in  good  humour,  for  ten  to  one — and  we 
confess  it.  such  is  the  insufficiency  of  all  sublunary 
21* 


246 

means  of  happiness — that  when  they  return  to  the  quiel 
enjoyment  of  domestic  bliss,  in  their  solitary  home,  the 
recollection  of  past  happiness  may  poison  the  enjoy 
ment  of  the  present,  and  smiles  be  turned  to  desperate 
frowns.  For  this,  however,  there  is  a  sovereign  reme 
dy — a  journey  to  town,  and  lodgings  at  a  fashiona 
ble  hotel. 

6.  If  their  wives  cannot  be  happy  at  home,  husbands 
are  bound  to  find  them  amusement  abroad,  in  like  man 
ner  as  they  are  bound  to  find  them  attendants,  when 
they  dont  choose  to  act  the  part  of  cavalier  servente 
themselves. 

7.  As  it  is  a  received  and  inflexible  law  of  the  beau 
monde  here,  to  imitate  all  foreign  fashions,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  we  suggest  to  the  fashionables  who  consti 
tute  good  society,  to  mince  matters  no  longer,  and  not 
stand  shilly-shally,  like  a  horse  with  his  fore  feet  in  the 
water,  and  his  hind  feet  out.     We  would  have  them  do 
exactly  as  the  most  elegant  and  fashionable  models  of 
Europe  do — marry  for  money  or  rank  ;  for  as  to  love, 
that  can  be  got  any  where.     Secondly.  To  consider 
marriage  not  as  tying  them  up,  but  letting  them  loose. 
Thirdly.  To  purchase  their  matrimonial  freedom,  by 
mutually  conceding  to  each  other  the  right  of  self  go 
vernment  in  all  matters  whatever,  except  the  enormity 
ef  being  out  of  fashion.     It  is  utterly  inconceivable  by 
those  who  have  not  had  the  advantage  of  a  European 
tour,  and  seeing  people  of  the  highest  rank — in  their  car 
riages  or  at  the  theatres — it  is  utterly  inconceivable  how 
this  mutual  freedom  conduces  to  the  happiness  of  do 
mestic  life.     But  as  example  is  said  to  be  better  than 


247 

precept,  we  will  record  an  instance  that  came  under  our 
observation,  for  the  benefit  of  our  fashionable  readers, 
craving  only  leave  to  omit  the  real  names. 

Honorious  and  Honoria  married  for  love  :  it  was  the 
fashion  then — or  it  was  the  fashion  for  people  to  per 
suade  themselves  they  did  so.  The  husband  was  a 
first  rate  man  of  fashion ;  for  he  dined  well,  drove  a 
handsome  carriage,  gave  parties,  and  lived  in  a  three 
story  house,  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel 
pieces  ;  and  the  wife  was  indubitably  a  fashionable 
lady  ;  for  she  had  a  fashionable  milliner,  a  fashionable 
air,  a  fashionable  coach,  a  fashionable  acquaintance, 
could  not  exist  without  silver  forks,  and  her  family  was 
of  the  first  respectability — for  it  could  show  more  bank 
rupts  than  any  in  town.  According  to  the  most  ap 
proved  fashion,  Honorious  gave  punch,  and  Honoria 
saw  company,  in  the  first  style,  with  eight  grooms  and 
groomesses  of  the  first  fashion  ;  one  of  the  former  was 
a  foreigner  of  great  distinction — for  he  could  play  the 
piano  divinely,  and  was  third  cousin  to  a  principal  te 
nant  of  an  English  prince  of  the  blood — no,  we 
mistake — to  an  English  duke — the  princes  of  the 
blood  in  England  having  no  land  to  plague  themselves 
with. 

After  seeing  company,  they  moved  into  Broadway, 
or  Hudson  Square — it  matters  not — into  a  three  story 
house,  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces, 
and  for  a  time  were  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long,  for  the 
whole  town  visited  them,  and  admired  the  folding  doors, 
the  marble  mantel  pieces,  the  carpets,  and  the  damask 


248 

curtains  of  eight  different  colours.  But  alas!  the 
chase  of  happiness  is  nothing  but  the  little  boy  running 
after  the  rainbow,  and  falling  into  a  ditch,  unless  people 
set  out  at  first  in  the  right  path.  The  twenty-ninth  eve 
ning  after  marriage,  Honorious  was  detected  in  a  yawn 
at  the  fireside — for  Honoria  had  insisted,  before  mar 
riage,  that  they  should  give  up  the  world,  and  live  to 
themselves  in  the  pure  enjoyment  of  quiet  domestic 
bliss.  A  yawn  per  se  is  nothing  ;  but  with  certain  com 
binations  and  associations,  it  becomes  extremely  formi 
dable.  Honoria  was  unfortunately  sufficiently  awake 
to  see  it,  and  it  went  nigh  to  break  her  heart.  But  as 
she  was  too  proud  to  show  her  real  feelings,  she  only 
exclaimed  a  little  sharply  :  "  Lord,  my  dear — I  wish 
you  would  leave  off  that  practice  of  yawning,  and  show 
ing  off  those  great  black  teeth  in  the  back  part  of  your 
head."  Honorious  had  well  nigh  jumped  out  of  his 
skin  at  this  speech,  so  wanting  in  tournure,  and  had 
some  trouble  to  answer  mildly,  that  "  Really  he  was  so 
stultified  with  want  of  exercise  and  variety,  that  he  was 
grown  quite  stupid."  "  You  had  better  say  at  once  you 
are  tired  of  my  company,"  cried  Honoria,  bursting  into 
tears.  Honorious  assured  her  that  he  was  not  tired  of 
her  company — that  he  never  was  tired  of  her  company 
— that  he  never  would  be  tired  of  her  company — and — 
here  he  was  stopt  by  another  yawn,  that  was  absolutely 
irresistible. 

That  night  neither  party  slept  a  wink,  for  the  last 
yawn  was  followed  by  a  keen  encounter  of  wits,  that 
ended  in  what  might  be  called  a  matrimonial  segrega 
tion.  However,  people  must  be  very  bad  tempered,  if 


249 

they  can  remain  long  on  ill  terms  with  their  nearest  con 
nexions.  A  reconciliation  soon  took  place,  and  Hono- 
yius,  to  prove  that  he  never  was,  and  never  would  be 
tired  of  his  wife's  company,  staid  at  home  all  day,  and 
all  the  evening,  although  his  health  suffered  materially 
in  the  direful  struggles  to  repress  those  violent  impulses 
towards  yawning  which  sometimes  beset  the  animal 
man  when  he  has  nothing  to  say  and  nothing  to  think 
about.  Too  much  fat  puts  out  the  candle,  and  too  much 
of  a  good  thing  is  good  for  nothing.  Tedium  is  the 
mother  of  ill  nature,  and  testiness  the  offspring  of  ennui. 
Honorius  did  not  go  out,  and  consequently  brought 
home  no  news,  no  topics  of  every  day  chit-chat — no 
food  for  raillery,  laughter,  or  ridicule,  and  thereupon 
it  actually  came  to  pass,  that  our  young  and  faithful 
couple,  actually  sometimes  came  to  want  topics  of  con 
versation,  and  took  to  disputing  and  contradicting, 
merely  to  pass  the  time. 

Pen  a  pen — by  those  imperceptible  snails  paces, 
which  so  often  lead  from  passion  to  indifference,  from 
indifference  to  dislike,  from  dislike  to  antipathy,  the 
good  Honorius,  who  was  a  well  dispositioned  man,  and 
the  amiable  Honoria,  who  was  really  a  reasonable 
woman,  as  times  go,  came  at  length,  to  quarrel  once, 
twice,  yea  thrice  a  day  ;  nay  oftener,  for  being  always 
at  home,  they  were  continually  coming  in  contact,  and 
when  people  have  no  other  topics,  they  generally  fall 
out  with  each  other.  It  is  indeed  quite  indispensable 
that  we  should  have  cerlain  out  door  acquaintance  to 
criticise,  for  the  security  of  peace  within  doors.  This 
is  considered  by  some  sensible  people,  as  the  principal 


250 

use  of  intimate  friends.  In  short,  Honorius  found  fault 
with  Honoria,  and  Honoria  found  fault  with  Honorius 
even  when  they  were  both  as  free  from  blame  as  their 
little  infants.  They  fell  out  about  the  children — they 
fell  out  about  the  servants,  the  inside  of  the  house  and 
the  outside  of  the  house,  the  stars,  the  planets,  the 
twelve  signs,  and  the  weather,  which  never  suited  both 
at  a  time.  In  short,  they  fell  out  about  every  thing, 
and  they  fell  out  about  nothing. 

At  length,  after  a  severe  brush,  Honorius  in  a  fit  of 
desperation,  one  day  took  his  hat  and  actually  sallied 
forth  into  the  places  where  merchants  most  do  congre 
gate.  There  he  heard  the  news  of  the  day,  the  ups  and 
downs  of  life,  the  whys  and  the  wherefores,  the  fires  and 
the  murders,  the  marriages  and  the  divorces,  and  all  the 
little  items  of  the  every  day  drama  of  the  busy  world. 
He  did  not  come  home  till  dinner  time,  and  Honoria 
received  him  with  the  like  kindness,  as  if  he  were  come 
off  a  long  journey.  They  sat  down  to  dinner,  and  she 
asked  him  the  news.  He  told  her  all  he  had  heard,  and 
the  dinner  passed  off  without  a  single  quarrel,  although 
we  are  obliged  to  confess  Honoria  once  threw  the 
gauntlet,  by  finding  fault  with  his  spilling  the  gravy  on 
a  clean  damask  table  cloth. 

In  the  evening,  however,  there  was  another  desperate 
duet  of  yawning  in  andante,  succeeded  by  a  quick  mea 
sure  of  altercation.  Honorius  took  his  hat  once  again, 
and  went  to  the  play,  whence  he  did  not  return  till  past 
twelve ;  for  what  with  horses,  dogs,  and  devils,  men  made 
by  nature's  journeymen,  spectacles,  singing,  dancing, 


251 

tumbling,  and  the  like,  people  now  certainly  get  the 
worth  of  their  money  at  the  play,  in  quantity  if  not  in 
quality.  Poor  Honoria  was  so  alarmed  at  his  long  ab 
sence,  that  she  thought  he  had  drowned  himself  in  a  fit 
of  desperation,  and  was  so  glad  to  see  him  that  she  for 
got  to  ask  him  where  he  had  been,  till  the  next  morning 
at  breakfast.  He  told  all  about  the  horses,  the  dancers, 
the  devils,  the  flying  Dutchman,  the  flying  Indians,  the 
glums  and  the  gawrs,  and  the  machinery  and  the 
pasteboard,  till  she  laughed  herself  almost  to  death,  and 
accused  him  of  having  been  at  a  puppet  show.  The 
breakfast  went  off  charmingly,  although  Honorius  broke 
a  China  tea  cup  belonging  to  a  set  that  cost  five  hun 
dred  dollars,  and  Honoria  put  twice  as  much  milk  in 
his  coffee  as  he  liked. 

By  degrees  this  habit  of  going  out  increased  upon 
Honorius  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  at  length  got  to  the 
other  extreme,  and  Honoria  was  often  left  day  after  day, 
evening  after  evening,  in  loneliness  and  solitude  ;  for  her 
children  were  yet  too  young  for  companions.  She  quar 
relled  a  little  with  Honorius  about  it,  who  coolly  answer 
ed,  "  My  dear,  why  dont  you  go  out  too  ?  nobody  hinders 
you."  "  Where  shall  I  go — we  have  completely  got 
out  of  society  by  visiting  nobody."  "0  give  a  rout ; 
I  warrant  you'll  have  company  enough,  every  body  will 
be  your  acquaintance."  It  was  decided ;  a  rout  was 
given  and  every  body  came.  This  of  course  entitled 
them  to  invitations  from  every  body,  and  instead  of 
spending  every  day  and  evening  at  home,  they  now 
spent  every  day  and  evening  abroad.  This  again  pro 
duced  that  desperate  monotony,  which  whether  of  com- 


-252 

pany  or  solitude,  excitement  or  stupidity,  is  equally 
tedious  and  unsatisfactory  in  the  end.  They  begun  to 
dispute  their  way  regularly  to  and  from  parties,  and 
matters  became  worse  than  ever.  Honorius  was  too 
polite  to  certain  ladies  whom  Honoria  particularly 
hated ;  and  Honoria  was  too  free  with  certain  gentle 
men  Honorius  particularly  despised. 

"  Alas  !"  said  Honorius  one  day  to  himself,  "  is  there 
no  peace  to  be  found  in  this  world !"  And  Honoria 
repeated  the  same  exclamation  to  herself  just  at  the 
same  moment.  A  sudden  ray  of  light  broke  in  upon 
Honorius,  as  if  in  response  to  this  pathetic  appeal.  If 
we  cannot  be  happy  together,  is  it  not  possible  to  be 
happy  asunder?  Honorius  went  out  by  himself  the 
very  next  night,  the  night  after,  and  the  night  after  that. 
Honoria  could  hold  out  no  longer,  and  reproached  him 
bitterly.  "  My  dear,"  answered  Honorius,  mildly, 
'"  why  cant  you  go  out  by  yourself  too  ?"  The  carriage 
was  ordered  on  the  instant  by  Honoria,  who  went  to 
one  party,  and  Honorius  went  in  a  hack  to  another. 
They  both  passed  such  a  delightful,  evening,  that  they 
repeated  the  experiment  again,  and  again.  Each  suc 
ceeded  better  and  better,  and  the  arrangement  has  sub 
sisted  ever  since.  Honorius  is  out  all  day,  and  when 
he  happens  to  be  at  home  at  night,  Honoria  is  out  at  a 
party,  or  to  the  play.  In  the  winter  they  are  never  seen 
together,  except  by  accident,  at  a  public  place,  when 
you  would  take  them  for  perfect  strangers.  In  the  sum 
mer  she  goes  to  the  springs,  he  to  Long  Branch ;  the 
children  are  left  at  home  with  the  nurses,  to  preserve 
peace  and  quiet  in  the  family  abroad.  Honoria  never 


253 

gets  up  to  breakfast  with  Honorius,  and  Honorius  never 
is  at  home  to  dine  with  Honoria.  She  is  at  a  ball  till 
two  in  the  morning  ;  he  at  the  faro  table  all  night. 
They  never  meet — they  never  quarrel.  Honoria  is  the 
delight  of  fashionable  gentlemen;  Honorius  of  fashion 
able  ladies,  who  all  envy  Honoria  the  possession  of  such 
an  agreeable,  witty,  polite  husband.  In  short,  they  have 
found  the  grand  secret  of  preserving  domestic  peace  and 
tranquillity  at  home — by  never  meeting  there. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

<)F  THE  EXQUISITES,  AND  THE  WHOLE  DUTY  OP  MAN  AT 
THE  SPRINGS. 

Happy  the  man  who  is  born  with  whiskers,  for  he 
will  not  be  under  the  necessity  of  buying  a  goodly  pair, 
without  which  it  is  impossible  to  live.  As  the  May  Fair 
poet  we  have  quoted  heretofore  with  reprobation,  most 
insolently  sings : — 


"  All  now  wear  beards,  or  buy  the  beards  they  wear  ? 
The  human  face  divine  is  lost  in  hair. 
While  thus  the  mind  so  well  the  body  suits, 
How  wise  to  steal  the  livery  of  brutes ! 
You  think  a  warrior  shoves  you  from  the  wall  - 
1Tis  a  meek  creature,  whom  we  prentice  call, 
Bewhisker'd  like  crusader,  or  grand  Turk, 
In  quick  step  marching  homeward  with  his  work, 
\  pair  of  breeches,  or  a  flannel  gown, 
Looking  the  while  as  if  he'd  look  you  down— • 
22 


254 

Pray  dont  be  frighten'd,  he'd  not  hurt  a  fly, 
His  business  in  the  world  is  but  to  lie." 


RULE  1.  Next  to  whiskers,  dress  is  all  important  to 
the  success  of  a  young  gentleman,  at  all  places,  espe 
cially  at  the  springs.  Not  manners,  but  the  tailor 
makes  the  man  in  the  present  improved  state  of  the 
world,  and  nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  success  in 
life  mainly  depends  on  the  cut  of  the  coat,  the  exube 
rance  of  the  whiskers,  and  above  all  the  tie  of  the 
cravat.  We  know  several  young  fellows,  who  have 
carried  off  heiresses,  solely  by  virtue  of  superior  excel 
lence  in  this  last  indispensable  requisite. 

2.  Be  sure  you  pay  no  attention  to  that  musty  old 
saw,  about  cutting  your  coat  according  to  your  cloth, 
except  it  be  t-    reverse  the  ignoble  maxim  by  cutting 
it  directly  the  contrary.     N".  B.  For  the  cut  of  your  coat, 
and  for  the  most  approved  attitudes,  see  jjie  figures  in 
the  windows  of  the  men  mercers  and  me  is  milliners  in 
Broadway. 

3.  Never  get  any  article  of  dress  from  a  cheap  tailoFj 
for  he  will  be  sure  to  make  you  pay  for  it ;  whereas  a 
real  fashionable,  expensive  tailor,  always  charges  his 
good  customers  in  advance,  to  pay  for  his  bad  ones : 
for  it  would  ruin  him  irretrievably,  and  frighten  half  his 
customers  to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  town,  were  he  to 
be  guilty  of  the  ill  manners  of  sueing  one  of  them.     He 
must  never  do  this  till  he  is  about  leaving  off  business. 

4.  Never  stop  to  inquire  whether  you  want  a  new 
coat,  or  whether  you  can  pay  for  it.     If  the  tailor  trusts 
you,  good — it  is  at  his  own  risk,  and  if  you  dont  pay 


255 

him,  somebody  else  must,  after  the  manner  hinted  at  in 
the  preceding  rule. 

5.  If  you  happen  to  see  a  wretch  coming  down  the 
street,  to  whom  you  have  been  indebted  three  or  four 
years,  you  have  only  to  stop  short,  consider  a  moment, 
then  turn  suddenly  around  and  trot  off  in  a  contrary 
direction.     People  will  take  it  for  granted  you  have 
forgot  something. 

6.  Never  pay  any  debts  if  you  can  help  it,  but  debts 
of  honour  :   such  as  tavern  bills,  and  generally  all  bills 
for  superfluities.     By  the  law  of  nature,   man   has  a 
claim  on  society  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  there 
fore  is  not  bound  to  pay  for  them. 

7.  Never  be  deterred  from  going  to  the  springs  by 
any  sordid  motives  of  economy.     All  that  is  necessary 
is  to  pay  your  way  till  you  get  there.      Once  there,  you 
have  only  to  play  at  cards,  pocket  your  winnings  and 
pay  none  of  your  losings,  and  it  will  go  hard  if  you  dont 
create  a  fund  for  indispensable  necessaries.     Failing  in 
this,  you  have  only  to  tell  mine  host,  that  you  have  been 
disappointed  in  remittances,  and  are  going  to  Albany  or 
New  York  to  see  about  them.     Never  mind  his  blank 
looks,  he  wont  dare  to  arrest  you,  for  fear  of  losing  one 
half  of  his  lodgers,  who  would  not  fail  to  resent  such  an 
unfashionable  procedure,  not  knowing  how  soon  their 
turn  might  come,  if  such  unheard  of  enormities  were 
tolerated  in  fashionable  society. 

8.  Never  pay  any  attention  to  the  ladies,  and  they 
will  be  sure  to  pay  attention  to  you  ;  that  is,  if  you  have 
plenty  of  whiskers,  plenty  of  cravats,  and  know  how  to 
tie  them;  plenty  of  coats,  a  curricle  or  gig  and  tandem, 


256 

and  look  grim.     N.  B.  Heiresses  are  excepted ;  they 
expect  to  be  sought  after. 

9.  It  is  needless  to  caution  you  to  avoid  the  despe 
rate  imprudence  of  falling  in  love  with  a  lady  who  is 
poor  in  every  thing  except  merit.  Nobody  commits 
such  a  folly  now  a  days,  especially  since  the  vast  im 
provement  in  taste,  and  the  prodigious  advances  made 
by  the  spirit  of  the  age.  Formerly,  in  the  days  of  outer 
darkness,  "  when  Adam  delv'd  and  Eve  span,"  poor 
people  might  marry  without  coming  upon  the  parish. 
But  it  would  be  the  extreme  climax  of  folly  to  do  it 
now,  when  it  is  impossible  to  fit  out  a  wife  of  the  least 
pretensions  for  a  walk  in  Broadway,  under  a  sum,  that 
in  those  miserable  days  of  delving  and  spinning,  would 
have  purchased  independence  for  life.  Since  the  age 
of  paper  money,  brokering,  speculating,  .and  breaking, 
and  ever  since  the  great  encouragement  of  "  domestic 
industry,"  women  of  decency,  never  spin  any  thing 
but  "  street  yarn,"  a  fashionable  article,  which  has  all 
the  fashionable  requisites  to  recommend  it,  being  en 
tirely  useless.  What  would  be  the  fate  of  an  unfortu 
nate  youth,  who  is  without  a  penny,  and  without  the 
means  or  arts  to  gain  one,  who  should  marry  a  fashion 
able  young  lady,  who  possesses  but  one  single  art,  that  of 
spending  thousands  1  How  would  he  get  a  three  story 
house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces  ? 
how  would  he  obtain  the  means  of  purchasing  hats  at 
fifty  dollars — pelisses  at  a  hundred — veils  at  twice  as 
much — and  shawls  at  ten  times  ?  How  would  he  be 
able  to  keep  a  carriage,  give  parties,  and  drink  Bing- 
ham,  or  Nabob,  or  Billy  Ludlow  I  Without  these 


257 

things  what  man  or  woman  in  their  senses  will  marry  ? 
And  then  the  children !  How  are  they  to  be  furnished 
with  artificial  curls,  and  necklaces,  and  bracelets,  and  ear 
rings,  and  pink  hats  of  immeasurable  size,  and  pelisses, 
and  silken  hose,  and  ruffles,  and  laces,  and  made  to  look 
like  Lilliputian  ladies  ?  How  are  they  to  be  taught  the 
art  of  arts,  the  art  worth  all  the  arts,  the  indispensable 
art  of  spending  money,  unless  there  is  money  to  spend? 
We  know  of  but  one  way,  and  that  is  by  running  in 
debt,  and  getting  white  washed.  This  cant  be  done 
above  eight  or  ten  times,  without  people  beginning  to 
grow  shy  of  trusting  you  for  any  sum  that  will  make  it 
worth  while  to  go  into  the  limits.  It  is  however  hoped 
that  the  wishes  of  the  philanthropists  will  soon  be  reali 
zed,  by  the  passage  of  a  law  to  do  away  with  this  inhu 
man  necessity,  and  that  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when 
the  march  of  mind  and  the  spirit  of  the  age,  will  lead  to 
the  consummation  of  all  things,  when  people  may  in 
dulge  in  all  the  luxuries  of  life  without  money,  and  run 
in  debt  without  the  disagreeable  alternative  of  paying,  or 
going  into  retirement.  Then  every  body  will  be  rich — 
then  everybody  can  live  in  a  three  story  house  with  folding 
doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces,  give  parties,  live  luxu 
riously,  get  the  dyspepsia  as  well  as  messieurs  the 
brokers,  run  in  debt  without  the  necessity  of  running 
away,  get  married,  be  happy,  and  dress  their  little  girls 
for  a  walk  in  Broadway  as  fine  as  a  fiddle  !  Until  then, 
however,  we  repeat  our  caution  not  to  marry  any  body 
that  labours  even  under  the  suspicion  of  being  poor, 
the  worst  of  all  possible  suspicions  for  a  young  lady ; 
it  is  enough  to  ruin  her  reputation  past  all  recovery. 
22* 


•  '258 

Until  then,  the  young  gentlemen  must  be  content  wit!? 
looking  all  the  horrors  of  bachelorism  in  the  face  ;  and 
the  young  ladies  riot  in  the  anticipations  of  single  bless 
edness,  which  melancholy  as  it  may  be,  is  better  than 
living  in  a  house  without  folding  doors  and  marble 
mantel  pieces,  and  giving  no  balls.  While  the  old  gen 
tleman  lives,  he  must  work,  and  shave,  and  speculate, 
and  turn  his  pennies  ten  times  a  day,  to  keep  the  young 
ladies  in  the  costume  becoming  the  march  of  mind  and 
the  spirit  of  the  age  ;  and  when  he  fails,  or  dies,  they 
must  trust  to  providence  and  the  orphan  societies. 
There  is  but  one  remedy  for  all  this,  but  it  is  ten  times 
worse  than  the  disease — economy.  As  it  is,  bachelors 
will  multiply  prodigiously,  marrying  for  love  will  go  out 
of  fashion,  and  there  will  not  be  a  sufficiency  of  apes  in 
all  Africa,  to  supply  the  place  of  the  dandies  of  this  life, 
in  the  life  to  come. 

10.  After  singling  out  the  lady  who  possesses  the 
sine  qua  non — to  wit,  not  less  than  a  hundred  thousand/" 
it  behooves  the  young  gentleman  to  be  particularly  atten 
tive  to  the — mother — if  the  young  lady  unfortunately 
Has  one  at  the  springs.  Daughters  are  all  so  dutifulf 
that  they  never  reject  the  recommendation  of  their  pa 
rents  in  cases  of  this  kind,  especially  if  they  threaten  to 
disinherit  them.  He  must  be  always  on  the  alert ;  dip 
her  water,  offer  his  arm,  sit  next  her  at  table,  run 
down  all  the  rest  of  the  married  ladies,  praise  the 
daughter  for  looking  so  like  the  mother,  perfume  his 
whiskers,  and  take  every  opportunity  of  looking  at  the 
young  lady  tenderly,  playing  with  his  watch  chain,  if  he 
has  one,  or  in  default,  fiddling  with  his  cravat,  at  the 


259 

same  time  ;  there  is  nothing  like  suiting  the  action  te» 
the  look.  He  must  be  pensive,  abstracted,  and  dis 
tracted  ;  affect  solitude,  and  drink  enormously — we 
mean  of  the  waters.  He  must  wander  in  the  woods, 
lose  his  appetite  in  public  and  make  uSup  in  private, 
bite  his  thumbs,  chew  his  lips,  knit  his  eye  brows,  and 
grow  as  pale  as  he  possibly  can.  Should  all  this  fail, 
if  he  can  afford  it,  he  must  give  a  ball,  or  a  collation,  or 
a  party  on  the  lake,  and  upset  the  boat,  on  purpose  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  saving  the  lady's  life.  But  if  even 
all  these  fail,  he  must  resort  to  the  desperate  expedient 
of  the  hero  who  gave  name  to  the  famous  rock,  of 
eternal  memory,  near  Ballston,  known,  and  ever  to 
be  known,  by  the  appellation  of  the  LOVER'S  ROCK* 
The  story  is  as  follows,  on  the  best  possible  authority. 
A  young  gentle'man  of  good  family,  who  could  look 
back  at  least  two  generations  without  tracing  his  pedi 
gree  to  a  cobbler,  or  a  shaver — we  dont  mean  a  barber — 
but  whose  fortune  was  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  his  -birth, 
having  the  good  luck  to  raise  the  wind  by  a  timely  hits 
visited  the  springs  in  a  gig  and  tandem.  He  had  re 
ceived  the  best  education  the  country  could  afford; 
that  is,  he  had  learned  enough  Greek,  and  Latin,  and 
natural  philosophy,  and  mathematics,  to  forget  it  all  in  a 
year  after  leaving  college.  He  had  learned  a  profes 
sion  which  he  did  not  practise,  and  he  practised  many 
things  which  he  did  not  learn  from  his  profession.  He 
had  a  vast  many  wants  without  the  means  of  supplying 
them,  and  professed  as  lofty  a  contempt  for  all  useful 
occupations,  as  if  he  had  been  rich  enough  to  pass  for 
a  fool.  He  was  always  well  dressed,  well  mounted » 


260 

and  well  received  on  the  score  of  these  recommenda 
tions,  added  to  that  of  his  ancient  descent ;  for  as  we 
said  before,  he  could  trace  back  to  a  great  grandfather, 
whom  nobody  knew  any  thing  about,  so  nobody  could 
deny  his  having  been  a  gentleman.  Nothing  is  so 
great  a  demonstration  of  ancient  descent,  as  the  utter 
obscurity  of  the  origin  of  a  family. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  our  hero  was  excessively  fond  of 
style,  good  living,  and  gentlemanly  indulgencies  of  all 
sorts ;  but  his  taste  was  cramped  by  the  want  of  the 
one  thing  needful.  'Tis  true,  he  got  credit  sometimes  ; 
but  his  genius  was  consequently  rebuked  by  frequent 
dunnings  of  certain  importunate  people,  who  had  the 
impudence  to  want  their  money  sometimes.  If  it  were 
not  for  this,  living  upon  credit  would  be  the  happiest 
of  all  possible  modes  of  life,  except  that  of  a  beggar, 
which  we  consider  surpassingly  superlative.  Beggars 
are  the  true  gentlemen  commoners  of  the  earth ;  they 
form  the  only  privileged  order,  the  real  aristocracy  of 
the  land — they  pay  no  taxes — obey  no  laws — they  toil 
not,  neither  do  they  spin — they  eat  when  they  are  not 
hungry,  and  drink  when  they  are  not  dry — they  neither 
serve  as  jurymen,  firemen,  or  militiamen — nor  do  they 
work  on  the  highways — they  have  neither  country  to 
serve,  or  family  to  maintain — they  are  not  obliged  to 
wash  their  hands  and  faces,  or  comb  their  hair  every 
morning— they  fear  nothing  but  the  poor  house — love 
nothing  so  well  as  lying,  except  drinking — and  eat  what 
they  please  in  Lent : — In  short,  as  the  Old  Song  says  : 

"  Each  city,  each  town,  and  every  village, 
Affords  us  either  an  alms  or  pillage ; 


261 

And  if  the  weather  be  cold  and  raw, 

Then  in  the  barn  we  tumble  in  straw ; 

If  warm  and  fair,  by  yea-cock  and  nay-cock, 

The  fields  will  afford  us  a  hedge  or  a  hay-cock — • 

A  hay-cock — a  hay-cock — and  hay-c«ck,  &c." 

Truly  it  is  a  noble  vocation ;  and  nothing  can  afford  a 
clearer  proof  of  the  march  of  mind  and  the  improved 
spirit  of  the  age,  than  the  multiplication  and  daily  in 
crease  of  this  wise  commonwealth  of  beggars,  who 
have  the  good  sense  to  know  the  difference  between 
living  by  the  sweat  of  their  own  brows,  and  that  of 
other  people.  Next  to  the  wisdom  of  begging,  is  that 
of  borrowing — or,  as  the  cant  phrase  is,  living  upon 
tick. 

The  outward  man  of  our  hero  was  well  to  look  at, 
especially  as  It  was  always  clothed  in  the  habiliments  of 
fashion.  He  was  tall,  straight,  stiff,  and  stately ;  his 
head  resembjed  the  classical  model  of  a  mopstick  ;  and 
his  whiskers  would  have  delighted  the  good  Lady  Baus- 
siere.  The  ladies  approved  of  him ;  and  if  he  had  only 
been  able  to  achieve  a  three  story  house  in  Hudson 
Square  or  Broadway,  with  mahogany  folding  doors  and 
marble  mantel  pieces,  together  with  certain  accompani 
ments  of  mirrors,  sofas,  pier  tables,  carpets.  &c.  it  was 
the  general  opinion,  that  he  might  have  carried  a  first 
rate  belle.  But  alas !  without  these,  what  is  man  ? 
Our  hero  felt  this  at  every  step,  and  bis  spirit  rose  man 
fully  against  the  injustice  of  the  world.  At  one  time, 
he  had  actually  resolved  to  set  down  to  his  profession, 
and  by  persevering  attention,  amass  a  fortune  thai 
would  supply  the  place  of  all  the  cardinal  virtues.  But 


alas !  the  seductions  of  Broadway,  and  the  soirees,  and 
the  sweet  pretty  belles,  with  their  big  bonnets  and  bish 
ops — there  was  no  resisting  them  ;  and  our  hero  aban 
doned  his  profession  in  despair.  Finding  he  could  not 
resist  the  allurements  of  pleasure,  he  resolved  within 
himself  to  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone  as  it  were — 
that  is,  to  join  profit  and  pleasure — and  while  he  was 
sporting  the  butterfly  in  Broadway,  to  have  an  eye  to 
securing  .the  main  chance — a  rich  wife — at  the  same 
time. 

In  pursuance  of  this  gallant  resolution,  he  made  de 
monstrations  towards  every  real  or  reputed  heiress  that 
fell  in  his  way.  Every  Jack  has  his  Gill — if  one  wont, 
another  will — what's  one  man's  meat,  is  another  man's 
poison — there  is  no  accounting  for  tastes — and  he  who 
never  gets  tired  will  come  to  the  end  of  his  journey  at 
last — quoth  our  hero,  and  continued  to  persevere  in  the 
midst  of  eternal  disappointments.  He  might  have  suc 
ceeded  in  some  instances,  but  for  the  eternal  vigilance 
of  the  mamas,  who  justly  thought,  that  having  brought  up 
their  daughters  to  nothing  but  spending  money,  the  least 
they  could  do  was  to  provide  them  with  rich  husbands. 
Either  the  pursuit  itself,  or  the  frequent  failures  of  out 
hero  in  running  down  his  game,  began  to  lower  him  in 
the  estimation  of  the  world — that  is,  the  little  world  in 
which  he  flourished.  Success  only  can  sanctify  any 
undertaking ;  and  a  successful  highwayman,  or  pros 
perous  rogue,  is  often  more  admired  than  an  unlucky 
dog  who  has  nothing  but  his  blundering  honesty  to  recom 
mend  him.  Besides,  there  is,  we  know  not  for  what 
reason,  a  prejudice  against  gentlemen  who  pursue  for- 


263 

tune  in  the  shape  of  a  young  lady  of  a  hundred  thou 
sand — charms, — we  mean  dollars.  Men  labour  their 
fortunes  in  various  ways  ;  some  by  handicraft  trades — 
some  by  shaving  beards,  and  some  by  shaving  notes — 
some  by  long  voyages  by  sea,  and  others  by  long  peri 
lous  journeys  by  land.  They  spend  the  best  part  of 
their  lives  in  these  pursuits,  and  at  last,  when  worn  with 
care,  hardships,  and  anxieties,  they  sit  down  in  their.old 
age,  to  nourish  their  infirmities  and  pamper  their  appe 
tites  with  luxuries,  that  carry  death  in  their  train.  Now 
we  would  ask,  is  it  not  better  to  carry  fortune  by  a  coup 
de  main,  and  achieve  an  heiress  off-hand,  than  to  chase 
her  all  our  lives,  and  only  be  in  at  our  own  death,  in 
stead  of  the  death  of  our  game?  The  prejudice 
against  fortune  hunters,  as  they  are  called,  is  therefore 
unjust;  and  we  advise  all  young  fellows  of  spirit  to 
hunt  away  bravely,  rather  than  drudge  through  the  des 
perate,  long,  lingering  avenues  of  a  profession. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  our  hero  began  to  be  held  rather 
cheap  by  the  young  ladies,  who  used  to  compare  notes, 
and  find  out  that  he  had  made  the  same  demonstrations 
towards  some  score  or  two  of  them.  It  is  observed  by 
deep  philosophers,  that  the  last  thing  a  man  or  woman 
will  pardon  in  others,  is  the  fault  of  which  they  are 
most  guilty  themselves.  All  these  pretty  belle-butter 
flies  had  flirted  with  divers  young  men,  and  intended  to 
do  it  again  ;  but  they  were  exceedingly  indignant  at  our 
hero,  and  turned  their  backs — no,  their  bishops— to  him 
on  all  public  occasions.  Some  ignoble  spirits  would 
have  turned,  in  grovelling  despair,  to  a  profession,  and 
quit  forever  the  pursuit  of  these  fatal  beauties.  But 


264 

our  hero  was  not  the  man  to  despair.  He  mustered  all 
his  credit,  and  made  a  dead  and  successful  set  at  his 
tailor,  who  furnished  him  with  two  full  suits,  the  price  of 
which  he  apportioned  equally  among  his  punctual  cus 
tomers,  who,  he  justly  thought,  ought  to  pay  something 
for  being  in  good  credit.  He  blew  a  desperate  blast, 
and  raised  the  wind  for  a  gig  and  tandem,  which  he  ob 
tained  by  means  which  have  puzzled  us  more  than  any 
phenomenon  we  ever  witnessed  in  all  .our  lives.  He  did 
all  this,  and  he  triumphantly  departed  for  the  springs, 
where  the  quo  ad  hoc  hook  catches  many  an  inexperi 
enced  belle  and  beau,  and  where  the  pretty  rice-fed 
damsels  of  the  south  do  congregate,  whose  empire  ex 
tends  not  only  over  the  whole  region  of  beauty,  but 
likewise  over  divers  plantations  of  cotton,  and  diver? 
scores  of  gentlemen,  both  of  colour  and  no  colour. 

The  arrival  of  our  hero  at  the  springs  occasioned 
quite  a  sensation.  The  young  ladies  inquired  who  he 
was,  and  their  mammas  what  he  was  worth.  The  an 
swer  to  this  latter  question  was  by  no  means  satisfacto 
ry  ;  although  nothing  absolutely  certain  could  be  gather 
ed  for  some  time,  as  to  the  precise  state  of  his  finances. 
Meanwhile  he  singled  out  a  daughter  of  the  sun,  of 
whom  fame  reported  that  she  was  heiress  to  a  great 
dismal  swamp  of  rice,  and  plantations  of  cotton,  and 
feudal  lady  over  hundreds  of  serfs,  who  bowed  to  hef 
sway  with  absolute  devotion.  Our  hero  baited  the  quo 
ad  hoc  hook,  and  angled  for  the  fair  lady  of  the  rice 
swamp,  with  more  than  the  patience  of  a  professor  of 
what  Isaac  Walton  calls  the  "gentle  craft."  The 
young  lady  was  quite  unknowing  in  the  ways  of  tbf 


265 

kon  ton.  She  had  been  bred  up  in  the  country,  where 
she  studied  romance  in  books  of  religion,  and  religion 
in  books  of  romance.  She  had  never  run  the  gauntlet 
through  a  phalanx  of  beaux,  every  one  of  whom  gave 
her  a  wound ;  nor  had  she  lost  the  sweetest  inheritance 
of  a  woman — that  willing,  wilful  credulity  which  almost 
loves  to  be  deluded,  and  which  had  rather  be  deceived 
into  a  conviction  of  worth,  than  be  obliged  to  believe 
it  has  been  deceived.  She  was  in  truth  deplorably 
unsophisticated  in  the  ways  of  men  and  of  the  world. 
She  did  not  even  dream  that  money  was  actually  neces 
sary  to  supply  our  wants,  much  less  did  it  enter  into  her 
innocent  fancy,  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  be  mar 
ried  at  present,  without  the  indispensable  requisites  of 
mahogany  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces,  sil 
ver  forks,  satin  curtains,  Brussels  carpets,  and  all  those 
things  which  constitute  the  happiness  of  this  life.  In 
short,  she  had  no  tournure  at  all,  and  was  moreover  a 
little  blue,  having  somehow  imbibed  a  notion,  that  no 
man  was  worth  a  lady's  eye,  unless  he  was  distinguished 
by  something  of  some  sort  or  other — she  hardly  knew 
what.  It  never  entered  her  head — and  why  should  it  f 
for  this  is  the  result  of  experience  alone — it  never  en 
tered  her  head,  that  good  sense,  a  good  heart,  and  e 
good  disposition,  were  far  more  important  ingredients 
in  the  composition  of  wedded  bliss,  than  a  pretty  turn 
for  poetry,  or  a  decided  vocation  to  the  fine  arts. 

But  her  lady  mother,  under  whose  guardian  wing  ouis 

heroine  now  first  expanded  her  pinions,  was  another 

sort  of  "  animal,"  as  the  polite  Johnnies  say  of  a  wo* 

man.    She  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  ingredients  no* 

23 


266 

cessary  to  the  proper  constitution  of  a  rational  wed 
ding.  None  knew  better  than  herself,  that  money  only 
becomes  the  brighter  for  wearing,  and  that  a  vast  many 
other  things  especially  valued  by  inexperienced  young 
ladies,  not  only  lose  their  lustre  and  value,  but  actually 
wear  out  entirely  in  the  course  of  time.  Experience 
had  taught  her,  that  Cupid  was  only  the  divinity  of 
youth,  whereas  honest  Plutus  never  lost  his  attractions, 
but  only  fascinated  his  votaries  the  more  strongly  as 
they  grew  in  age  and  wisdom.  In  short,  she  had  a 
great  contempt  for  merit,  and  a  much  greater  venera 
tion  for  money. 

Acting  under  these  opposite  conclusions,  it  is  little 
to  be  wondered  at,  if  the  old  lady  and  the  young  one 
drew  different  ways.  Our  hero  made  daily  progress 
with  the  daughter,  and  lost  ground  with  the  mother 
faster  than  he  gained  it  with  the  other.  The  old  lady 
watched  him  intensely,  and  always  had  something  par 
ticular  to  say  to  her  daughter,  whenever  he  occupied 
her  attention  for  a  moment.  She  could  not  stir  a  step 
without  the  young  lady,  and  grew  so  weak  and  infirm, 
that  at  length  she  could  not  walk  across  the  room  with 
out  the  aid  of  her  arm.  Our  hero  entered  the  lists  in 
the  art  of  mining  and  countermining,  but  he  was  no 
match  for  the  old  lady,  who,  though  she  had  but  two 
eyes,  and  those  none  of  the  brightest,  saw  all  that  Ar 
gus  could  have  seen  with  his  fifty.  The  opposition  of 
currents  is  sure  to  raise  the  froth;  and  opposition  ifl 
love  hath  the  same  effect  on  the  imagination,  which  is 
Cupid's  prime  minister,  if  not  Cupid  himself. 

In  this  way  things  -went  on ;  our  hero  was  in  the  si- 


tuation  of  a  general  with  two  frontiers  to  defend,  and 
lost  ground  on  one  as  fast  as  he  gained  it  on  the  other. 
With  the  young  lady  he  was  better  than  well ;  with  the 
old  one,  worse  than  bad.  About  this  time,  another 
pretender  entered  the  lists  against  our  hero,  equally 
well  dressed,  equal  in  whiskers,  equal  in  intrepidity  ? 
and  equally  in  want  of  the  sine  qua  non.  A  rival  is 
sure  to  bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  except  in  the  case  of 
a  young  lady  who  knows  and  properly  estimates  the  ex 
quisite  delights  of  flirtation.  The  good  mother  saw 
pretty  clearly,  that  this  hew  pretender  would  infallibly, 
by  the  force  of  repulsion,  drive  her  daughter  to  the  op 
posite  side — that  is,  into  the  arjns  of  our  hero.  She 
therefore  cut  the  matter  short  at  once,  and  forbid  the 
young  lady  to  speak,  walk,  sit,  ride,  or  exchange  looks 
with  our  hero.  The  young  lady  obeyed  in  all  except  the 
last  injunction  ;  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  made 
up  in  looks  for  the  absence  of  all  the  others.  The  old 
lady  saw  it  would  not  do,  and  forthwith  sending  for  our 
hero,  peremptorily  dismissed  him,  with  the  assurance 
that  her  daughter  should  never  marry  him — that  if  she 
did,  she  would  never  see  or  speak  to  her  more,  but  hold 
her  alien  to  her  heart  forever.  She  then  quitted  our 
hero  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  leaving  him  with  his  eyes 
wide  open. 

He  took  his  hat  and  stick — paid  his  bill — no,  I  am 
wrong  ;  he  did  not  pay  his  bill — and  casting  a  look  at 
the  window  of  his  "  ladye'  love"  that  cracked  six  panes 
of  glass,  proceeded  in  a  fit  of  desperation  to  the  rock 
then  without  a  name,  but  now  immortalized  as  the  Lo 
vers'  Rock.  This  rock  frowns  tremendously,  as  all 


268 

rocks  do,  and  hangs  in  lowering  majesty  over  the  stream 
of  Kayaderosseros — a  name  in  itself  sufficient  to  indi 
cate  the  presence  of  something  extraordinary — if  not 
actually  terrible.  On  arriving  at  this  gloomy,  savage, 
wild,  and  dreary  spot,  our  hero  took  out  a  pocket-glass 
and  adjusted  his  whiskers  to  the  nicety  of  a  hair — he 
then  deliberately  drew  forth  his  pen  knife  with  a  pearl 
handle  and  silver  springs,  and  cleaned  his  nails.  After 
this  he  pulled  up  his  neckcloth  five  or  six  times,  and 
shook  his  head  manfully ;  then  he  took  off  his  coat, 
folded  it  up  carefully,  laid  it  down,  took  it  up,  kissed 
it,  and  shed  some  bitter  tears  over  this  object  of  his  dear 
est  cares  :  then  after  a  solemn  and  affecting  pause,  he 
tied  a  white  pocket  handkerchief  about  his  head,  cast 
his  eyes  upwards,  clasped  ms  nanas,  IOOK  one  lareweil 
look  at  himself  in  the  pocket  glass,  then  dashing  it  into 
a  thousand  pieces,  he  rushed  furiously  to  the  edge  of 
the  precipice,  and  turning  a  sommerset  by  mistake  back 
wards,  fell  flat  on  his  bishops,  on  the  hard  rock,  where 
be  lay  motionless  for  sometime — doubtless  as  much  sur 
prised  as  was  poor  Gloster,  when  he  threw  himself  as  he 
supposed  from  Dover  Cliff,  to  find  that  he  was  not  dead. 
The  truth  is,  our  hero  could  hardly  believe  himself  alive, 
until  at  length  he  recognized  to  his  utter  surprise  and 
disappointment,  that  he  had  committed  an  egregious 
blunder  in  throwing  himself  down  on  the  top,  instead 
of  the  bottom  of  the  rock. 

He  determined,  in  his  own  mind,  to  do  the  thing  bet 
ter  next  time,  and  was  preparing  to  avoid  a  similar 
blunder,  when  through  the  dim,  wicked,  enticing  obscu 
rity  of  the  pine  grove,  he  thought  he  saw  a  sylph  like 


269 

figure,,  gliding- — not  walking — swiftly  in  the  direction  ol 
the  rock.  He  gazed  again,  and  it  assumed  the  port  of 
a«iortal  woman.  A  little  nearer,  and  it  emerged  from 
the  glossy,  silver  foliage,  in  the  form  of  the  sovereign 
lady  of  his  heart,  the  mistress  of  the  rice  swamps.  She 
had  seen  him  depart  with  murder  in  his  eye,  and  des 
peration  in  his  step  ;  she  had  heard  from  her  mother  of 
his  summary  dismissal,  and  had  no  doubt  he  had  gone 
to  that  rock,  where  erewhile  they  had  looked  unutterable 
things,  to  kill  himself  as  dead  as  a  stone.  Taking  ad 
vantage  of  the  interregnum  of  a  nap,  she  escaped  the 
maternal  guardianship,  and  followed  him  at  a  distance. 
She  had  seen  his  preparations  for  self  immolation  ;  she 
had  seen  the  pathetic  farewell  between  him  and  himself, 
the  tying  of.  the  handkerchief,  the  pulling  off  of  the  coat, 
the  wringing  of  the  hands,  the  rush  towards  the  edge  of 
the  rock  ;  and  she  had  seen  him  disappear,  just  as  with 
a  shriek,  which  he  heard  not,  she  had  fallen  insensible 
to  the  ground.  When  she  name  to  herself,  and  recalled 
what  she  had  seen,  she  determined  to  follow  her  mur 
dered  lover  to  the  rock,  and  throw  herself  down  after 
him,  in  the  bitterness  of  her  despair.  But  what  can 
describe  her  delight,  when  on  arriving  at  the  fatal  spot, 
she  saw  her  true  lover  running  towards  her  apparently 
as  well  as  ever  he  was  in  his  life  !  An  explanation  took 
place,  which  was  followed  by  words  of  sweet  consola- 
on  the  part  of  the  lady. 

"  I  swear,"  said  she,  "  by  the  genius  which  inhabits 

this  rock,  by  the  nymphs  which  sport  in  this  babbling 

brook,  by  the  dryads  and  hamadryads  that  live  in  these 

hollow  pines,  that  I  will  not  obey  my  cruel  mother.     I 

23* 

' 


270 

will  marry  thee,  and  should  my  obdurate  parent  disin 
herit  me,  and  send  me  forth  to  beggary,  I  will  share  it 
with  thee.  Let  her  disinherit  me  if  she  will ;  what  is 
fortune — what  is — " 

"  Dis — dis — disin — disinherit,  did  you  say  V9  inter 
rupted  our  hero,  staring  in  wild  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  disinherit,"  replied  the  young  lady,  enthusias 
tically,  "  I  will  brave  disinheritance,  poverty,  exile,  want, 
neglect,  contempt,  remorse,  despair,  death,  all  for  you. 
SO  you  dont  kill  yourself  again." 

"  Pis — dis — disin — disinherit,"  continued  our  hero, 
in  a  state  of  increasing  distraction,  "  pov — ,  ex — , 
wa — ,  neg — ,  con — ,  re — ,  des — ,  death ;  why  what  is 
all  this,  angel  of  my  immortal  soul  ?" 

"  O  dont  take  on  so — dont  take  on  so — my  own  deai 
heart :  I  swear  again,  and  again,  a  hundred,  aye,  ten 
hundred  thousand  million  times,  that  I  dont  care  if  my 
mother  cuts  me  off  with  a  shilling — " 

"  Gut — cut — off—shilling — why  I  thought — that  is — 
I  understood — that  is,  I  was  assured  that — that — you 
had  a  fortune  in  your  own  right?" 

"  No,  not  a  penny,  thank  heaven  ;  I  can  now  show 
you  the  extent  of  my  love,  by  sacrificing  fortune — every 
thing  for  you.  I'll  follow  you  in  beggary  through  the 
world." 

c<  I'll  be if  you  will,"  our  hero  was  just  going 

to  say,  but  checked  himself  and  cried  out  in  accents  of 
despair,  "  And  you  have  no  fortune  of  your  own  I" 
"  No,  thank  heaven !" 
"  No  rice  swamps  V9 
"  No,  thank  heaven !" 


271 

{i  No  cotton  plantations  ?" 

"No,  thank  heaven!" 

"No  uplands,  nor  lowlands,  nor  sea  island,  nor 
long  staple,  nor  short  staple  ?" 

"  No,  thank  heaven  !" 

"  Nor  crops  of  corn  ??; 

"  No,  thank  heaven  !" 
•"  Nor  neg — I  mean  gentlemen  of  colour." 

"  Not  one,  thank  heaven  !" 

"  And  you  are  entirely  dependent  on  your  mother  Vr 

"  Yes ;  and  she  has  sworn  to  disinherit  me  if  I  marry 
you,  thank  heaven ;  you  have  now  an  opportunity  of 
showing  the  disinterestedness  of  your  affection." 

Our  hero  started  up  in  a  phrenzy  of  despair — he  rush 
ed  madly  and  impetuously  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
and  avoiding  a  similar  mistake  with  that  he  had  just 
committed,  threw  himself  headlong  down  into  the  terrible 
torrent  with  the  terrible  name,  and  floated  none  knew 
whither,  for  his  body  was  never  found.  The  young  lady 
was  turned  into  stone — dont  be  alarmed,  gentle  reader-— 
only  for  a  few  minutes,  at  the  end  of  which  she  be 
thought  herself  of  following  her  lover ;  then  she  be 
thought  herself  of  considering  the  matter ;  and  finally 
she  fell  into  an  inexplicable  perplexity,  as  to  what 
eould  have  got  into  our  hero,  to  drown  himself  in  de 
spair  at  the  very  moment  she  was  promising  to  make 
him  the  happiest  of  men.  She  determined  to  live  till 
she  had  solved  this  doubt,  which  by  the  way  she  never 
could  do  to  the  end  of  her  life,  and  she  died  without: 
being  able  to  tell  what  it  was  that  made  her  lover  make 
away  with  himself  at  such  an  improper  time.  Be  this 


272 

as  it  may,  the  landlord  and  the  man-mercer,  like  the 
"  devil  and  the  king,"  in  the  affair  of  Sir  Balaam,  divi 
ded  the  prize  ;  one  taking  the  gig,  the  other  the  tandem. 
From  that  time  the  place  has  gone  by  the  name  of  the 
LOVER'S  ROCK,  and  not  a  true  lover,  or  true  hearted 
lady  ever  visits  the  springs  without  sojourning  many  an 
hour  of  sentimental  luxury  on  the  spot  whert*  our  hero 
could  not  survive  the  anguish  of  even  anticipating,  that 
he  should  cause  the  lady  of  his  heart  to  be  disinherited 
for  love  of  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OF  THE  BEHAVIOUR  PROPER  FOR  ELDERLY  SINGLE  GEN 
TLEMEN   AT  THE  SPRINGS. 

In  days  of  yore,  before  the  march  of  mind  and  the 
improvements  in  style  and  dress  which  distinguish  the 
present  happy  age,  old  bachelors  deserved  no  mercy 
unless  they  came  under  the  class  of  disappointed  lovers, 
er  proved  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  world,  "  they  would 
if  they  could."  But  now  unless  a  man  is  born  rich,  he 
cant  afford  to  marry  till  he  grows  rich,  in  doing  which  he 
is  very  apt  to  grow  old.  Hence  the  number  of  bache 
lors  is  sure  to  increase  with  the  progress  of  refinement, 
which  mainly  consists  in  the  invention  or  adoption  of 
new  modes  of  dress,  new  fashioned  furniture,  and  new 
ways  of  spending  money.  Bachelors  have,  for  these* 
seasons,  become  of  late  sufficiently  numerous  to  consti- 


273 

lute  a  class  by  themselves,  and  to  merit  a  code- designed 
especially  for  their  use  and  government.  At  the  same 
time  we  premise,  that  all  things  considered,  we  are  of 
opinion,  that  since  it  is  indecent  for  a  man  of  any  preten 
sions  to  get  married  until  he  can  afford  to  live  in  a  three 
story  house  with  mahogany~folding  doors  and  marble 
mantel  pieces,  he  ought  not  to  be  classed  with  old 
bachelors,  till  it  can  be  proved  he  has  been  five  years 
rich  enough  for  the  deed,  or  till  he  is  fully  convicted  of 
threescore,  when  he  must  give  in,  and  take  his  place  in 
the  corps. 

1.  Bachelors,   or  more  politely,   single   gentlemen 
of  a  certain  age,  ought  never  to  marry  any  but  very 
young,  sprightly  belles,  of  the  first  fashion  and  pre 
tensions.     The  true  foundation  of  mutual  affection  ia 
in  the  attraction,  not  of  affinity,  but  of  contrast.     This 
contrast  is  perfect,  between  a  gentleman  of  fifty  and  a 
young  lady  of  sixteen,  and  nothing  can  come  of  such  a 
union,  but  mutual  love,  and  perfect  obedience  on  the 
part  of  the  lady,  who  ten  to  one  will  look  up  to  him 
as  a  father. 

2.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  who  are  rich 
enough  to  afford  a  curricle,  together  with  a  three  story 
house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel  pieces,  need 
not  be  under  any  apprehensions  of  being  rejected  by  a 
young  lady,  brought  up  as  she  ought  to  be,  with  a  pro 
per  insight  into  the  respective  value  of  men  and  things. 
But  they  should  not  be  more  than  ten  years  making  up 
their  minds,  remembering  the  fowler,  who  was  so  long 
taking  aim  that  the  bird  flew  away  before  he  drew  the 
trigger. 


274 

3.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
play  a  double  part,  or  sport  with  the  hearts  of  inexperi 
enced  young'ladies. 

4.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  should  beware 
of  the  widowers,  who  are  always  in  a  hurry.     We  have 
known  a  bachelor  cut  out  by  a  brisk  widower,  before  he 
knew  where  he  was. 

5.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
plead  guilty  to  a  single  ache  or  pain,  except  growing 
pains.     They  should  never  remember  any  thing  that 
happened  more  than  ten    years  back.     To  recollect 
past  times,  is  a  melancholy  proof  of  old  age. 

6.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
attempt  a  cotillion,  or  cut  a  caper,  except  they  are  sure 
of  going  through  with  it.     If  they  are  once  laughed  at  in 
public  it  is  all  over  with  them.   They  had  better  be  poor. 

7.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  beware 
how  they  "  buck  up"  to  widows,  unless  they  have  pre 
viously  brought  themselves,  as  Lady  Macbeth — who  was 
undoubtedly  a  widow  when  Macbeth  married  her — -says, 
"  to  the  sticking  place,"  that  is,  to  the  resolution  of 
committing  matrimony  at  a  moment's  warning.     Your 
widows,  if  they  mean  to  marry  again  at  all,  never  like 
to  linger  on  the  funeral  pyre  of  a  bachelor's  indecision. 

8.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
marry,  except  they  have  proof  positive  of  the  disinte 
rested  affection  of  the  young  lady.     In  order  to  ascer 
tain  this,  it  would  be  well  to  circulate  a  rumour  of  great 
losses,  or  actual  bankruptcy,  and  put  down  the  equipage. 
Any  lady — we  mean  any  young  lady,  of  the  real,  fashion 
able  tournure,  that  can  stand  this,  must  have  a  heart  like 
a  stone. 


275 

9.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  ought  never  to 
have  more  than  two  ladies  in  prospect  at  one  time ; 
one  for  each  eye,  else  they  may  chance  to  lose  both. 
The  prevailing  offence  of  bachelors,  is  that  of  ill  bred 
pointers :  you  cannot  bring  them  to  a  dead  point,  although 
they  will  be  popping  their  noses  every  where. 

10.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  being  always 
young,  should  never  keep  company  with  old  people,  for 
fear  the  old  proverb,  about  birds  of  a  feather,  should  be 
fired  at  their  heads.     They  should  now  and  then  com 
mit  a  gentlemanly  excess,  such  as  drinking  six  bottles 
at  a  sitting,  or  playing  cards  all  night,  though  it  might 
be  expedient  not  to  appear  in  public  till  the  effects  are 
gone  off.     An  old  field  is  not  so  easily  renovated  as  a 
new  one. 

11.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  who  are  well 
to  do  in  the  world,  ought  to  make  the  first  advances 
to  the  mothers  of  young  ladies  they  are  inspired  with  a 
desire  to  appropriate.     The  former  know  the  value  of 
money  better  than  the  latter,  and  a  well  bred  daughter, 
will  think  it  indelicate  to  pretend  to  know  any  difference 
between  one  man  and  another,  except  as  respects  his  for- . 
tune.     For,  as  the  great  poet  says,  "  worth  makes  the 
man,"  that  is,  the  money  he  is  worth. 

12.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  which  phrase 
we  ought  before  this  to  have  explained,  as  indicating 
gentlemen  whose  ages  are  altogether  uncertain ;  such 
gentlemen  ought  never  to  deceive  the  young  ladies  in 
any  thing  but  their  age  and  their  money.     A  desire  to 
appear  young,  and  to  be  thought  rich,  is  so  natural  and 
amiable,  that  none  but  a  cynic,  would  ascribe  it  to  a 
bad  motive. 


276 

13.  Very  old  single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should 
be  careful  how  they  marry  in  the  month  of  January,  for 
reasons  which  shall  be  nameless  ;  or  in  February,  for 
reasons  which  will  readily  present  themselves ;  or  in 
March,"  for  reasons  we  do  not  think  proper  to  specify ; 
or  in  April,  for  reasons  best  known  to  ourselves ;  or  in 
May,  for  reasons  of  the  first  magnitude  ;  or  in  June, 
for  reasons  which  cannot  be  obviated  ;  or  in  July,  for 
reasons  which  no  one  will  venture  to  controvert ;  or  in 
August,  for  reasons  which  every  body  will  understand ; 
or  in  September,  for  reasons  which  to  be  ignorant  of 
would  impeach  the  reader's  understanding  ;  or  in  Octo 
ber,  for  reasons  highly  appropriate ;  or  in  November, 
for  reasons  deep  and  profound  ;  or  in  December,  for 
reasons  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  our  face*  There  are, 
moreover,  seven  days  of  the  week  in  which  very  old 
single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  ought  not  to  think  of 
being  married.  Monday,  because  that  is  washing  day. 
Tuesday,  or  Twosday  as  it  was  originally  written,  be 
cause  that  is  ominous,  "  man  and  wife  will  be  two"  be 
fore  the  end  of  the  week.  Wednesday,  or  Wedding- 
day,  as  is  the  true  orthography,  for  that  is  generally  the 
day  of  all  others  an  old  single  gentleman  of  a  certain 
age  recollects  with  the  least  satisfaction.  Thursday, 
or  Thorsday,  because  it  was  christened  after  the  Pagan 
deity,  Thor,  and  marriage  is  a  Christian  ceremony. 
Friday,  because  it  is  hanging  day,  and  he  might  be 
tempted  to  disgrace  the  anniversary  of  his  wedding  by 
turning  himself  off  that  day.  Saturday,  because  that  is 
too  far  from  the  middle  of  the  week,  and  the  maxim  in 
dealing  with  the  ladies  is,  medio  tutissimtts  ibis.  Nor. 


277 

above  all,  on  Sunday,  for  that  is  dies  wow,  and  no  monied 
transactions,  or  purchases  and  sales,  are  lawful  on  that 
day.  Any  other  day  in  the  week  it  is  perfectly  safe  for 
them  to  marry. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OF  MATRIMONY,  AND  THE  BEST  MODE  OF  INSURING 
HAPPINESS  IN  THE  STATE,  BY  A  DISCREET  CHOICE  OF 
A  HELPMATE. 

In  the  present  improved  system  of  society,  when  the 
young  ladies  wear  spatterdashes,  and  the  young  gentle 
men  corsetts,  money  is  absolutely  essential  to  the  pa 
tient  endurance  of  the  married  state.  The  choice  of  a 
rich  husband,  or  wife,  supersedes,  therefore,  the  neces 
sity  of  all  rules,  as  wealth  secures  to  the  successful  ad 
venturer  all  the  happiness  this  world  can  give,  so  long 
as  it  lasts.  But  as  every  one  is  not  so  fortunate  as  to 
achieve  a  rich  heir  or  heiress,  the  following  hints  may 
enable  them  to  make  a  choice  that  will  in  some  measure 
supply  the  absence  of  the  aforesaid  indispensable  re 
quisite. 

1.  Beauty  is  a  principal  ingredient  of  happiness  in 
the  married  state,  and  it  is  scarcely  ever  observed  that  a 
handsome  couple  is  otherwise  than  truly  happy.  If  it 
is  objected  that  beauty  is  but  a  fading  flower,  we  an 
swer,  that  when  it  is  faded,  all  that  the  parties  have  to 
do,  is  to  think  each  other  beautiful.  If  such  an  effort 
24 


278 

of  the  imagination  is  beyond  them,  they  must  do  the  best 
they  can,  and  admire  each  other  for  their  good  qualities* 

2.  Next  in  value  to  beauty,  is  the  capacity  of  making 
a  figure  at  all  public  places,  by  dressing  well,  dancing 
well,    and   making   oneself  agreeable   to   every  body. 
Nobody,  except  such  as  have  experienced  it,  can  con 
ceive  the  happiness  of  having  one's  wife,  or  husband, 
admired  by  all  the  world.     As  to  how  they  conduct 
themselves  in  private,  and  in  the  domestic  lete  a  tete,  that 
is  a  matter  of  very  little  consequence,  so  long  as  they 
have  sufficient  discretion  to  keep  their  own  secrets,  and 
sufficient  good  breeding  not  to  quarrel  before  the  public. 

3.  As  nothing  is  so  outrageously  vulgar,  as  the  idea 
of  not  spending  money,  because  people  have  not  got  it 
to  spend,  the  next  best  gift  to  a  rich  or  handsome  wife, 
is  a  wife  that  knows  how  to  spend  a  fortune.     This  is 
an  infallible  proof  of  high  breeding,  and  great  cleverness 
withal.     Any  fool  can  make  a  figure  with  money,  but 
to  make  an  equal  figure'  without  it,  is  an  invaluable 
qualification  in  a  wife. 

4.  Never  marry  any  body  you  have  ever  heard  or 
seen  laughed  at  by  people  of  fashion,  unless  he  or  she 
is  rich,  or  who  does  not  always  follow  the  recent  fashions 
in  every  thing.  A  bonnet  or  a  coat  out  of  fashion,  infalli 
bly  degrades  people  from  their  station  in  society,  whe 
ther  they  are  young  or  old,  and  a  person  that  leads  the 
ton,  is  almost  an  equal  prize  with  an  heiress  or  a  beauty. 

5.  Never  marry  a  lady  who  appears  unconscious  of 
her  "beauty  or  accomplishments,  except  she  is  an  heiress ; 
for  this  presupposes  a  degree  of  blindness  and  stupidity 
truly  deplorable.     How  can  you  expect  a  woman  to  see 
the  good  qualities  of  her  husband,  who  is  blind  to  her  owti  ? 


279 

6.  Never  many  a  woman  of  prudence,  good  sense, 
good  temper,  and  piety,  excepting  always  she  is  rich  ; 
for  if  you  happen  to  turn  out  an  indifferent  husband,  all 
the  world  will  blame  you  ;  whereas  if  she  is  as  bad,  or 
worse  than  yourself,  you  will  have  the  best  possible 


7.  Never  marry  a  woman  who  is  particularly  retiring 
in  her  disposition  and  habits.     This  bespeaks  shyness, 
and  shyness  indicates  slyness,  and  slyness,  hypocrisy. 
Your  bold  faced,  harem-scarem  women,  who  show  all, 
and  disguise  nothing,  are  the  best.     There  is  no  decep 
tion  about  them,  and  it  is  a  proof  that  they  have  nothing 
to  hide,  when  they  hide  nothing.   Ladies  that  eat  nothing 
in  public,  generally  make  it  up  in  the  pantry,  and  to 
quote  a  saying  fashionable   at  Almack's,   "  The  still 
sow,  &c.  &c." 

8.  Beware  of  that  monstrmn  horrendum,  a  woman 
that  affects  to  have  a  will  of  her  own,  before  marriage, 
and  to  act  up  to  certain  old  fashioned  notions  of  propri 
ety  and  decorum.     One  who  refuses  to  make  herself 
ridiculous,  though  it  is  the  fashion  ;  who  will  not  waltz 
in  public  with  a  perfect  stranger,  though  it  is  the  fashion  ; 
who  will  not  flirt  with  any  body  that  comes  in  her  way, 
though  it  is  the  fashion  ;  and  who  absolutely  refuses  to 
act  and  look  like  a  fool,  though  every  body  else  sets  her 
the  example.     Such  a  woman  will  trouble  you  exceed 
ingly,  and  ten  to  one,  never  let  you  rest  till  you  become 
as  ridiculous  as  herself. 

9.  Beware  also  of  a  woman  who  had  rather  stay  at 
home  and  read  Paradise  Lost,  than  walk  up  and  down  the 
Paradise  of  Broadway,  in  a  high  wind  and  «.  cloud  ol 


•280 

dust,  holding  her  hat  with  one  hand,  and  her  cloak  will/ 
the  other.  Such  a  woman  decidedly  prefers  exercise  of 
mind  to  exercise  of  limbs,  and  will  never  make  a  good 
waltzer. 

10.  Beware  of  blue  stockings,  for  they  are  abroad. 

11.  Beware  of  bishops  and  hoop  petticoats^  for  they 
are  abroad. 

12.  Beware — we  address  ourselves   particularly  to 
the  ladies — beware  of  all  manner  of  men,  that  aspire  to 
be  useful  in  their  generation,  except  they  be  rich  ;  be 
ware  of  all  men  who  look  as  if  nature  had  any  hand  in 
their  composition,  except  they  be  rich  ;  beware  of  all 
that  aspire  to  be  better  and  wiser  than  their  neighbours, 
except  they  be  rich ;  beware  of  young  lawyers,  who 
think  of  nothing  but  estates  and  ladies — intail ;  beware 
of  young  physicians,  whose  knowledge  of  anatomy  and 
craniology  enables  them  to  dive  into  all  your  secrets  ; 
beware  of  the  young  parsons  in  spectacles,  who  look 
through  and  through  your  hearts  ;  beware  of  all  manner 
of  men  who  look  at  bills  before  paying  them  ;  beware  of 
all  sorts  of  handicraft  men,  except  Monsieur  Manuel, 
the  barber,  and  Monsieur  Simon,  the  cook  ;  and,  above 
all,  beware  of  your  stiff,  starched  fellows,  that  aspire  to 
the  cardinal  virtues,  for  that  smacks  of  Popery. 

We  had  thoughts  of  following  up  these  rules  for  en 
tering  the  happy  state  of  matrimony,  with  some  general 
directions  for  preserving  harmony  after  marriage.  But 
upon  the  whole  it  is  scarcely  worth  while.  The  great 
thing  after  all,  is  to  be  fairly  and  honestly  married,  and 
what  happens  afterwards  is  of  minor  consequence.  If 


281 

you  have  money  you  cannot  be  otherwise  than  happy. 
If  you  have  beauty,  fashion  and  good  dancing,  it  is  your 
own  fault  if  you  are  not  happy  ;  and  if  you  have  none  of 
these,  you  have  no  right  to  expect  happiness.  If  you 
are  only  contented  and  comfortable,  that  is  all  you  can 
hope  for  in  this  world,  without  riches,  beauty,  or  fashion, 
and  that  is  more  than  you  deserve  for  marrying  only  a 
discreet,  prudent,  sensible,  amiable,  tolerable  looking 
dowdy  of  a  man  or  woman.  We  shall  therefore  con 
clude  this  portion  of  our  undertaking,  by  cordially  wish 
ing  all  our  fashionable  readers,  well,  that  is,  richly  mar 
ried  ;  a  wish  which  includes  all  sublunary  blessings. 


CHAPTER  X. 

OF  THE  BEST  MODES  OF  KILLING  THE  GRAND  ENEMY  OF 
THE  FASHIONABLE  HUMAN  RACE,  WHO  HAVE  NOTHING 
TO  DO  IN  THIS  WORLD BUT  BE  HAPPY. 

Of  all  the  various  modes  and  inventions  devised  since 
the  creation  of  the  world,  for  passing  the  time,  none  can 
compare  with  EATING  ;  and  nothing  appears  wanting  to 
human  happiness,  but  the  capacity  of  eating  on  without 
stopping,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  But  alas ! 
people  cannot  eat  forever !  and  all  they  can  do,  after 
one  meal,  is  to  anticipate  the  delights  of  another. 
When  we  can  eat  no  more,  the  best  possible  substitute 
is  to  think  of  eating.  Such  are  the  glorious  effects  of 
the  waters  at  the  springs,  that  they  would  constitute  the 
best  substitute  for  Nectar,  or  Binghanij  or  Nabob,  to  bo 
24* 


282 
\ 

found  upon  this  earth,  if  the  good  things  to  be  eateii 
were  only  in  proportion  to  our  appetite  to  eat  them. 
But  alas !  truth  obliges  us  to  confess,  this  is  not  the 
case.  No  canvass  backs,  no  oysters,  no  turtle,  no 
Goose  and  Gridiron,  no  Droze,  no  Pardessus,no  Sykes, 
no  Niblo,  high  priest  and  caterer  of  the  gourmands  of 
JVova  Eboracensis,  we  would  say  of  the  gods  them 
selves,  were  we  not  of  opinion  they  knew  little  of  the 
importance  of  the  grand  science,  as  appears  by  then 
omitting  to  ennoble  one  of  their  number,  by  installing 
him  god  of  eating,  and  thus  placing  him  above  the 
great  Bacchus  himself.  But  on  second  thoughts,  this 
might  have  arisen  from  the  jealousy  of  Jove,  who  doubt 
less  foresaw  that  such  a  deity  would  monopolize  the 
incense  of  mankind,  and  leave  his  shrine  without  a  votary. 
Well,  therefore,  might  the  great  philosopher  lay  it 
down  as  the  grand  secret  of  human  happiness,  that  "  we 
should  live  to  eat,  and  not  eat  to  live,"  since  in  this  is 
contained  the  true  secret  of  the  summum  bonum,  which 
so  puzzled  all  antiquity.  Previous  to  those  prodigious 
steps  in  the  march  of  mind,  which  have  ennobled  the 
present  age  beyond  all  others  that  preceded,  or  that  will 
succeed  it,  the  gentler  sex  were  unhappily  precluded  in 
some  degree,  from  eating  more  than  was  absolutely 
necessary.  Nay,  some  of  the  most  approved  models 
of  heroines  of  romance,  so  far  as  we  are  without  any 
authority  from  the  authors  of  these  works  to  the  con 
trary,  never  ate  at  all.  It  was  considered  indelicate  to 
eat  as  if  they  cared  any  thing  about  it ;  and  there  is 
good  authority  for  saying,  that  a  great  match  was  once 
broken  off,  in  consequence  of  the  lady  being  detected 
by  her  lover  in  eating  raw  oysters.  But  the  world  of 


late  years,  grows  wiser,  much  faster  than  it  grows  older, 
and  thanks  be  to  the  steam  engines  for  it !  The  inter 
dict  against  female  eating  is  withdrawn,  and  it  does 
one's  heart  good  to  see  how  they  enjoy  themselves  at 
the  springs,  and  at  parties  in  town.  They  eat  like  so 
many  beautiful  little  pigeons,  till  their  beautiful  little 
craws  seem,  as  if  they  might  peradventure,  burst  their 
corsetts ;  and  foul  befall  those  egregious  innovators,  who 
we  hear  are  attempting  to  revive  the  fashion  of  giving 
soirees,  without  the  accompaniments  of  oysters,  porter, 
and  champagne.  May  they  be  condemned  to  sponge 
cake  and  lemonade  all  their  lives,  and  be  "  at  home"  to 
nobody,  till  they  learn  how  to  treat  their  friends. 

One  of  the  phenomena  which  has  puzzled  us  more 
than  almost  any  thing  in  this  world,  is  that  people  who 
meet  together  solely  for  pleasure,  should  ever  get  tired 
of  themselves  or  their  company.  But  so  it  is  ;  there  is 
probably  a  greater  portion  of  time  hanging  on  the  hands 
of  those  who  live  only  for  amusement,  than  falls  to  the 
share  of  any  other  class.  Hence  it  is  that  rich  and 
fashionable  people  are  so  frequently  dull,  out  of  humour 
and  splenetic ;  while  the  labouring  classes,  and  those 
who  ought,  in  reason  and  propriety,  to  be  miserable, 
enjoy  an  unaccountable  hilarity  of  spirits,  and  actually 
seem  to  crowd  into  one  hour  more  real  enjoyment  than 
a  man  of  pleasure,  whose  sole  business  is  to  be  happy, 
gathers  in  a  whole  life  of  animated,  uninterrupted 
pursuit.  How  provoking  it  is  to  see  a  miserable  linsey- 
woolsey  villain,  without  a  single  solitary  requisite  for 
comfort  in  high  life,  laughing,  and  dancing,  and  revel 
ling  in  an  exuberance  of  spirits,  while  a  company  of 
people  of  pleasure,  who  have  nothing  to  do  but  be 


284 

happy,  will  sit  inveloped  in  gloom,  dance  as  if  they  were 
following  a  funeral,  and  laugh,  if  they  laugh  at  all,  with 
a  melancholy  indifference  truly  exemplary.  Is  it  pos 
sible  that  labour,  or  at  least  employment  of  some  kind, 
is  necessary  to  the  enjoyment  of  ease,  and  to  the  viva 
city  of  the  animal  spirits  1  Certainly  it  would  seem  so. 
Nobody  laughs  with  such  glee  as  the  chimney  sweep, 
and  the  negro  slave  of  the  south,  whom  we  are  always 
pitying  ;  and  of  all  the  grave  people  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  the  North  American  Indian,  who  despises  work, 
and  lives  a  life  of  ease,  is  the  gravest ;  while  his  wife 
who  carries  the  burdens,  cultivates  the  corn,  and  per 
forms,  all  the  domestic  labours,  is  observed  to  be  gay 
and  cheerful.  It  is  certainly  passing  strange,  though  it 
would  appear  to  be  true,  that  the  people  we  most  envy, 
namely  the  rich  and  the  idle,  enjoy  the  least  of  life's 
sunshine,  though  they  seem  to  be  always  basking  in  it. 
The  old  indian  affirmed  that  among  the  white  men. 
"  the  hog  was  the  only  gentleman,"  for  he  never  worked, 
was  fed  upon  the  best  corn,  and  at  last  grew  so  fat  he 
could  not  walk.  Certainly  the  comparison  is  not  far 
from  odious  ;  but  there  are  certain  mortifying  points  of 
resemblance  between  the  quadruped  and  the  biped  gen 
tleman. 

Be  this  jj£  it  i  ,-iy,  such  being  the  difficulty  which 
environs  the  fortunate  beings,  who  in  thteir  chase  of 
pleasure,  at  length  run  it  down  at  the  springs,  and  know 
not  what  to  do  with  themselves  afterwards,  we  hold  him 
a  great  public  benefactor,  equal  to  the  father  of  a  canal 
or  a  rail  road,  or  a  cotton  manufactory,  who  shall  devise 
ways  and  means  to  rid  these  unfortunate  beings—unfor 
tunate  in  having  too  much  time  andjmoney  on  their  hanck 


285 

—at  least  of  a  portion  of  the  former.  After  much  deep 
and  intense  cogitation,  we  have  devised  a  series  of 
amusements,  which  if  followed  up  with  proper  industry; 
will  seldom,  if  ever,  fail  of  the  desired  end. 

The  first  and  best  preservative  against  ennui,  is  fall 
ing  in  love.  If  you  are  successful,  that  cures  all  evils 
for  the  time  being ;  and  if  otherwise,  the  disappoint 
ment  is  a  sovereign  remedy  for  ennui,  which  never 
troubles  people  who  have  any  thing  else  to  trouble  them, 

Dressing  is  no  bad  preventative,  provided  you  are 
long  enough  about  it,  and  take  a  proper  interest  in  look 
ing  well.  We  have  known  a  dishabille  give  a  tinge  of 
melancholy  for  a  whole  day  ;  and  more  than  one  per 
son  cured  of  a  serious  indisposition  by  resolutely  getting 
up,  changing  his  linen,  putting  on  a  new  suit,  shaving 
his  beard,  and  perfuming  his  whiskers.  Many  ladies 
have  also  been  rescued  from  profound  melancholy,  by 
putting  on  a  gay  coloured  dress,  with  pearl  ear-rings 
and  bracelets,  which  proved  remarkably  becoming. 
The  oftener  you  dress  the  better ;  for  besides  the  ma 
nual  exercise,  the  frequent  change  produces  a  corres 
ponding  change  of  ideas,  and  a  consequent  gentle  exer 
cise  of  the  animal  spirits,  highly  salutary.  Gay  colours 
are  best,  as  they  make  people  look  gay,  which  is  the 
next  thing  to  being  gay.  After  all,  we  are  but  camelions. 
and  owe  the  colour  of  our  minds  to  outward  objects. 

Gentlemen  have  a  great  resource  in  the  reading 
room,  provided  they  have  a  literary  turn,  and  are  redu 
ced  to  great  extremity  to  pass  the  morning.  We  recol 
lect  a  literary  character  at  the  springs,  who  spent  three 
hours  over  the  newspapers  every  day,  yet  could  never 
toll  the  news,  nor  the  day  of  the  week,  and  what  was 


286 

thought  rather  remarkable,  seemed  never  the  wiser  for 
his  studies.  Ladies  must,  however,  be  careful  to  read 
nothing  but  romances,  lest  they  should  pass  for  blue 
stockings,  which  among  the  fashionables,  are  considered 
synonymous  with  blue  devils. 

Music  and  reading  parties,  are  not  bad  in  a  rainy  day. 
A  little  music,  provided  it  is  not  out  of  tune  or  time, 
will  while  along  the  leaden  hours  of  pleasure  wonder 
fully,  when  there  are  admiring  beaux  to  listen  and  ap 
plaud,  and  who  can  relish  pure  Italian.  Beware  how 
ever  of  di  tanti  palpiti,  which  is  grown  so  common  thai 
the  very  sweeps  whistle  it  while  making  their  way  up 
chimney.  When  any  thing  gets  so  common  with  the 
vulgar,  it  is  beneath  the  notice  or  patronage  of  people 
of  fashion,  however  beautiful  it  may  be.  One  of  the 
great,  indeed  the  sole  objection  to  eating,  drinking, 
sleeping  and  breathing,  is  that  we  enjoy  them  in  com 
mon  with  the  brutes,  and  the  vulgar  who  are  little  better. 
Moore's  songs  ought  always  to  be  preferred  on  these 
occasions,  because  they  are  altogether  sentimental,  or 
sensual,  which  is  quite  synonymous  now  a  days.  Next 
to  actual,  bona  fida  kissings,  embracings,  palpitations, 
luscious  meetings,  and  heart  rending  adieus,  is  the  de 
scription  of  these  things  in  luscious  verse,  aided  by  the 
magic  strains  of  melting  melody.  It  almost  makes  one 
feel  as  if  really  going  through  these  delightful  evolutions. 
It  is  not  worth  while  to  mind  what  stiff  people,  who 
affect  decorum  of  speech,  say  on  tbe  subject.  There 
are  many  matters  that  may  be  sung,  but  not  said.  One 
may  sing  about  things,  which  it  would  be  thought  "rather 
critical  to  talk  about. 

Jn  respect  to  reading,  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that 


287 

we  have  nothing  new  of  Lord  Byron,  but  his  helmet, 
which  we  understand  is  to  be  exhibited  at  the  springs 
the  present  season,  provided  it  is  not  disposed  of  to  a 
valiant  militia  officer,  who  is  said  to  be  in  treaty  for  the 
same.  Formerly  the  literary  society  of  the  springs 
could  calculate  upon  a  new  canto  of  Don  Juan  every 
month,  redolent  with  the  inspiration  of  misanthropy  and 
»'*  gin  and  water;"*  but  now,  at  least  with  the  exception 
of  this  present  work,  unless  a  Waverley  or  a  Cooper 
tumbles  down  from  the  summit  of  Parnassus,  theje  is 
scarcely  any  thing  worth  reading  but  souvenirs,  which 
unluckily  appear  so  out  of  season,  that  they  are  a  hun 
dred  years  old  before  the  spring,  that  is,  the  spring  of 
fashionable  life  at  the  springs  arrives,  with  all  the  birds 
of  passage  in  its  train.  In  this  dilemma,  the  choice  must 
be  left  to  the  judgment  of  the  party,  with  this  solemn 
caution,  to  select  no  work  that  is  more  than  a  month 
old. 

People  who  are  not  addicted  to  deep  studies  may 
manage  to  get  through  a  long  storm  pretty  tolerably,  by 
looking  out  at  a  window,  and  wondering  when  it  will 
clear  off%  A  northeast  storm  of  two  or  three  days  is 
the  most  trying  time  ;  for  as  nobody  thinks  of  a  fire  in 
summer,  though  it  be  never  so  cold,  the  votaries  of 
pleasure  have  no  other  resource  than  going  to  bed  to 
keep  themselves  from  an  ague.  Gentlemen  who 'play, 
have  a  never  failing  resource  for  all  times,  seasons,  and 
vicissitudes  of  the  weather,  all  which  pass  unfelt  and 
unnoticed,  in  the  delightful  excitement  of  winning  and 
losing.  The  best  way  to  guard  against  these  storms, 
is  to  shut  the  windows,  lock  the  doors,  light  candles, 
*  See  Leigh  Hunt's  notice  of  Lord  Byron's  life  and  habits. 


288 

and  turn  day  into  night,  as  there  are  certain  amuse 
ments  which  are  only  proper  for  darkness  and  obscurity. 

In  addition  to  these  domestic  enjoyments,  resources 
may  be  found  without  doors  in  pleasant  weather. 
Among  these  is  the  excursion  to  Saratoga  Lake,  to  ram 
ble  along  its  banks,  or  fish,  or  flirt,  or  do  any  other 
fashionable  thing.  The  water  of  the  lake  is  so  pure 
and  transparent,  that  people  with  tolerable  eyes,  may 
see  their  faces  in  it.  Hence  arises  a  great  advantage  ; 
for^oung  persons  who  dont  care  to  contemplate  any 
beauties  but  their  own,  may  here  behold  them  in  the 
greatest  perfection,  in  the  pure  mirror  of  the  waters. 
So  perfect  is  the  reflexion,  that  more  than  one  Narcissus 
hath  beheld  himself  there,  and  pined  to  death  for  love 
of  his  own  image ;  and  many  a  fair  and  unsuspecting 
damsel,  that  never  saw  herself  in  gilded  mirror,  has 
here,  for  the  first  time,  become  conscious  of  her  charms, 
by  the  babbling  of  these  tell  tale  waters..  So  vivid  are 
the  pictures  thus  displayed,  and  so  true  to  nature,  that  a 
young  fellow  of  our  intimate  acquaintance,  who  had  some 
what  spoiled  a  pair  of  good  eyes,  by  eternally  squinting 
through  a  glass,  because  it  was  the  fashion,  once  actu 
ally  mistook  the  shadow  of  a  young  heiress  in  the  lake, 
for  the  young  heiress  herself,  and  jumped  in  to  save  her 
from  drowning.  The  lady  was  so  touched  by  this  gal 
lant  mistake,  that  she  took  the  will  for  the  deed,  and  the 
young  man  into  the  bargain.  N.  B.  The  fish  are  not 
worth  the  trouble  of  catching,  but  the  men  that  go  there, 
are,  sometimes,  and  so  are  the  ladies. 

There  is  also  fine  trout  in  Barheit's  Pond,  to  which  there 
is  a  pleasant  ricte  through  the  pine  woods,  at  least  they 
say  there  is  fine  trout,  if  one  could  only  catch  them  with 


289 

anything  but  a  silver  hook.  But  such  is  the  staid  allegi 
ance  of  these  loyal  fishes,  that  they  will  not  suffer  them 
selves  to  be  hooked  by  any  body  but  their  sovereign  lord, 
the  proprietor  of  the  waters.  We  ourselves  have  fished 
in  this  famous  pool,  till  a  great  spider  came  and  wove 
his  web,  from  the  tip  of  our  nose  to  the  tip  end  of  our 
fishing  rod,  and  caught  several  flies.  But  we  caught 
no  fish,  nor  would  St.  Anthony  himself,  we  verily  believe, 
had  he  preached  ever  such  sound  doctrines.  N.  B.  Mine 
host  may  possibly  bite,  though  the  trout  wont. 

For  longer  excursions,  there  is  the  famous  field  of 
Saratoga,  on  which  the  key  stone  of  the  arch  of  our  in 
dependence  was  raised,  and  six  thousand  English  inva 
ders  laid  down  their  arms,  and  where  a  pillar  ought  to 
be  erected  to  commemorate  the  triumph  of  free  soldiers. 
There  is  also  Lake  George,  the  masterpiece  of  nature, 
and  Hadley's  Falls,  which  will  richly  repay  a  visit,  and 
charmingly  occupy  a  day.  There  is  also  a  pleasant 
little  ride,  which  we  ourselves  discovered,  due  north 
of  Saratoga,  along  an  excellent  road,  skirted  on  one 
hand  by  rich  meadows,  on  the  other  by  a  rugged, 
rocky  hill,  from  which  ever  and  anon,  pours  down  a  little 
brawling  stream,  that  loses  itself  among  the  high  green 
grass  of  the  lowlands.  Of  a  fine  afternoon  towards 
sunset,  when  the  slanting  beams  of  the  sun  leave  the 
east  side  of  the  hills  enveloped  in  cooling  shades,  it  is 
pleasant  to  ride  along  and  taste  the  charms  of  nature, 
after  revelling  in  those  of  art  at  the  springs.  But  what 
are  we  talking  about  ?  we  have  forgot  ourselves.  Such 
matters  are  unworthy  our  book  and  those  to  whom  it  is 
addressed. 

25 


290 

Who  indeed  would  waste  his  time  in  loitering  about 
these  ignoble  scenes,  unsaid  and  unsung  by  names  of 
fashionable  note,  when  they  can  walk  back  and  forth 
the  long  piazzas  at  the  springs,  where  ladies  bright  are 
sitting  in  the  windows,  ready  to  talk  and  be  talked  to  \  to 
exchange  smile  for  smile,  and  to  accompany  any  body  in 
this  charming  promenade — if  you  only  ask  them? 
When  they  can  take  a  ride  to  Ballston  if  they  are  at 
Saratoga,  or  to  Saratoga  if  they  are  at  Ballston,  all  the 
way  through  the  beautiful  pine  woods,  show  off  their 
airs — we  mean  graces,  display  their  fashionable  dresses, 
spy  into  the  enemies'  ramp  at  Sans  Souci  or  Congress 
Hall,  criticise  rival  belles,  rival  houses,  rival  waters, 
and  bring  home  matter  for  at  least  one  day's  conver 
sation,  which  is  no  trifling  affair  let  us  tell  them. — 
Dire  indeed  is  the  hostility  between  these  rival  houses 
of  Sans  Souci  and  Congress  Hall,  the  Montagues  and 
Capulets,  the  Guelphs  and  Ghibelines  of  modern  days. 
Dire  are  the  conflicts  between  the  votaries  of  the  diure 
tic  and  cathartic  nymphs  of  the  springs,  and  dire  the 
scandals  they  utter  of  each  other,  when  under  the  in 
fluence  of  the  inspiring  draughts.  Not  rival  cities,  such 
as  Athens  and  Sparta,  Rome  and  Carthage,  London  and 
Paris,  New  York  and  Philadelphia;  not  rival  belles, 
rival  poets,  rival  reviews,  rival  players,  potentates,  or 
politicians  ever  breathed  such  defiances  as  Congress 
Hall  and  Sans  Souci.  As  sings  the  prize  poet : 

"  Not  vast  ACHILLE,  the  greatest  of  the  name, 
(Not  e'en  excepting  him  of  Grecian  fame) 
Not  vast  Achille,  such  pedal  wars  did  wage 
Against  the  mimic  monarch  of  the  stage, 


291 

Who,  with  his  hard  invulnerable  heel, 

He  laid  all  prostrate,  quick  as  flint  and  steel ; 

Nor  e'er  did  soda,  iron,  or  fix'd  air, 

So  play  the  mischief  with  the  rival  fair,"  &c. 

No  vulgar  conception  can  possibly  comprehend  the 
exquisite  excitement  of  this  civil  warfare  of  fashion,  and 
what  a  capital  resource  it  is  to  the  votaries  of  pleasure 
at  the  springs,  most  especially  on  a  stormy  day.  In 
vain  hath  Professor  Silliman  essayed  to  neutralize  these 
conflicting  and  angry  waters,  by  equally  bearing  testi 
mony  to  the  unequalled  merits  of  both,  unknowing  that 
there  exist  antipathies,  which  are  not  dreamt  of  in  his 
chymistry.  The  war  still  rages  and  will  continue  to  rage 
till  Ballston  and  Saratoga,  like  Babylon  and  Nineveh 
are  no  more,  and  their  sweet  waters,  for  the  sins  of  the 
people,  turned  into  dead  seas  and  lakes  of  sulphur. 

It  may  however  happen,  since  all  things  are  pos 
sible  in  this  wonderful  age,  that  notwithstanding  all 
these  resources,  these  varied  and  never  ending  delights, 
people  may  be  at  last  overtaken  even  here,  by  the  fiend 
ennui,  which  seems  to  have  been  created  on  purpose  to 
confound  the  rich  and  happy.  In  that  case,  they  may 
as  well  give  up  the  pursuit  of  happiness  at  once,  as  des 
perate.  There  is  nothing  beyond  the  SPRINGS  ;  they  are 
the  ultima  thule  of  the  fashionable  world,  and  those  who 
find  not  pleasure  there,  may  as  well  die  at  once — or  go 
home.  In  vain  will  they  toil  on  to  old  T«,  the  Plains  of 
Abraham,  the  Falls  of  Montmorency,  and  the  Lord 
knows  where.  In  vain  fly  from  Ballston  to  Saratoga, 
from  Saratoga  to  Ballston,  from  Ballston  to  Lebanon, 
from  Lebanon  to  Rockawa^,  and  from  Rockaway  to 


292 

Long  Branch,  where  they  may  have  the  satisfaction  of 
bathing  in  the  same  ocean  with  people  of  the  first 
fashion.  It  is  all  in  vain  ;  let  them  despair  and  go 
home  ;  and  as  a  last  forlorn  hope,  endeavour  to  find 
happiness  in  administering  to  the  happiness  of  those 
around  them,  an  expedient  we  have  actually  known 
to  be  successful  in  more  than  one  instance.  The 
young  ladies  to  working  caps  for  a  time  of  need  ; 
their  mothers  to  their  homely  household  gods ;  their 
husbands  to  planting  trees,  breeding  merinos,  and  cul 
tivating  politics  and  ruta  baga  ;  the  brokers  to  shaving 
closer  than  ever  to  make  up  for  lost  time  ?  the  dandy  to 
the  limits  ;  and  his  spruce  rival  the  shop  keeper,  to  his 
Counter.  "  0  what  a  falling  off!" 

"  The  greatest  fall  since  Adam's." 

And  now,  gentle  tourist !  having  conducted  thec 
safely,  and  we  hope,  pleasantly,  to  the  sanctuary  where, 
if  thou  findest  not  happiness  it  is  not  our  fault,  since  we 
have  shown  thee  where  she  dwells  and  how  to  woo  her, 
we  bid  thee  an  affectionate  farewell,  cautioning  thee,  as 
a  last  proof  of  our  solicitude  for  thy  welfare,  not  to  go  to 
Niagara,  lest  peradventure,  thou  fallest  into  the  hands  of 
the  "  Morgan  Committee."  Mayest  thou — to  sum  up 
all  in  one  consummate  wish — mayest  thou  pass  thy 
whole  life  in  travelling  for  pleasure,  meeting  with  glo 
rious  entertainment  by  the  way,  and  at  length  find 
peace  and  repose  at  that  inn,  where  sooner  or  later,  all 
mankind  take  up  their  last  night's  lodging. 

THE  EN1K 


